


I Know You Don't Sleep At Night

by humapuma



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky loves being a sex worker, Call Boy!Bucky, Conspiracy, Daddy Kink, Detective!Steve, Explicit Consent, Frottage, Graphic violence in chapter 22, M/M, Madam Natasha, Minor Character Death, Multiple Orgasms, POV Alternating, Rimming, Sex Work, Sex Worker Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers, Unprotected Sex, Victim Blaming, Violence in one chapter, discussions of attempted rape, murder investigation, only in chapter 6, rape apologists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-02-08 02:33:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 62,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21468622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humapuma/pseuds/humapuma
Summary: Bucky Barnes is a high class call boy working for Red Room Escorts. One night, while out with a new client, he witnesses a murder. The detective who interviews him is big, blond, and beautiful, and makes Bucky want things he shouldn't.Little does he know, they've met before.Steve Rogers is a detective in Brooklyn, called to investigate a murder at a nightclub. The witness he's told to interview is a hooker. When Steve enters the room, he can hardly believe his eyes. Bucky is lithe and beautiful, even at four in the morning after witnessing a homicide.He knows the witness and the rules say, he must recuse himself from the case.How many rules is Steve willing to break to keep Bucky safe?Every. Single. One.Please readThis is my first foray into Daddy kink and, like most of my other stories, it is fairly "non-traditional" (if I can say that?). So, even if you're not into the kink, I hope you will give it a try! <3
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 864
Kudos: 714





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so, so, so excited for this story! First, I want to say that this is my first foray into Daddy kink and like most of my other stories, it is fairly "non-traditional" if I can say that. So I hope you will give it a try!  
Second, thank you so much to [vita-divata](https://vita-divata.tumblr.com/) for the beautiful commission in this chapter!  
There's much more to come!  
Title inspired by "Melodious" by Seether.

Bucky’s ass ached and not from anything fun. The metal chair in the police interview room was miserable and he sighed again, shifting to ease the pressure off his tailbone. Exhaustion had long since set in; when he’d last checked the time, it’d been 3:37 AM. He was cold, too, but his jacket had been taken into evidence, or so the uniformed officer told him.

“Christ,” he muttered, wincing in pain. He’d been there for almost an hour, treated like some criminal.

Well, he _was _a criminal but that wasn’t the reason he was at the station. Not this time.

The door opened and Bucky looked up. In stepped a walking brick shithouse with tousled blond hair and piercing blue eyes. In one hand, he carried a file folder and, in the other, he held a steaming mug. He was gorgeous and Bucky could easily imagine how those big hands would feel on him.

The cop hesitated for a moment, staring at Bucky as if he was waiting for… something. “I’m Detective Rogers, Mr. Barnes,” he finally stated, setting the mug on the table and pushing it toward Bucky.

Bucky didn’t touch it; he hadn’t listened to a thing the shithouse had said. Instead, he argued, “I didn’t see anything, like I told the cops at the club. I wasn’t near my jacket when… when it happened.”

Rogers sat on the chair across from him. “Yes, you did say that but it’s procedure to get a written statement. You were at the bar when the shooting took place, correct?”

Sighing, Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I was getting a drink for me and my friend.”

Rogers pulled a pen and tiny notepad out of the breast pocket of his light blue button-up. “What is your friend’s name?”

His tone was mild, even matter-of-fact, but Bucky’d played this game a few times. “I don’t know,” he answered. “We’d just met a few minutes before. I offered to buy him a drink.”

Raising one eyebrow, Rogers asked, “You didn’t introduce yourselves first?”

Bucky could hear the moral judgment in his tone and smirked. _Gotcha_, he thought. “I wasn’t planning to call him for a repeat.”

A muscle in Rogers’ jaw twitched but he nodded his head. “Why had you gone there tonight?”

Bucky leaned back in the chair, keeping his expression stony even as his tailbone smarted. “Maybe I was lonely, Detective,” he purred. “Maybe I was looking for Mr. Right.”

Rogers’ cheeks reddened slightly and Bucky smiled, brighter and teetering on genuine. He’d learned that if he showed cops a slight crack in his facade, they trusted him more. If the open surprise was any indicator, it was working for Rogers too.

“And did you, uh, think this guy was him?” Rogers asked in a slightly breathless way.

Shaking his head, Bucky leaned forward over the table. The thin white shirt he wore slipped down a bit and he caught the way Rogers eyes followed its movement. It wasn’t his _most_ revealing shirt but it didn’t leave much to the imagination; his tattoos and pierced nipple were on full display through its translucent fabric and Rogers’ eyes seemed to miss nothing.

Bucky could recognize desire when he saw it. He looked up at Rogers through his lashes and bit his lip. _Easy as pie_.

Taking a sharp inhale, Rogers leaned back, blushing. “Please stop flirting with me, Buck,” he said and Bucky’s eye twitched. “A man is dead.”

_Buck_.

Sitting up straight, Bucky’s expression went blank. “I never caught your first name.”

There was a long moment of silence before Rogers seemed to realize what he’d said. “Oh, shit,” he breathed. “Shit, shit, shit.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the door; maybe he was checking the window to determine if they were being observed; maybe he was thinking of running. “It’s, uh, it’s Steve,” he finally answered, looking away.

Bucky’s eyes widened and he felt all the blood drain from his face. “Steve? _Steve_ Rogers?”

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling just a little. His eyes were soft and just bordering on affectionate. “It’s me, Buck.”

Bucky’s heart ached at the nickname. Memories of hot, sticky summers, running through the streets and raising hell; of long winter nights, worrying over Steve’s health; of the sweet, innocent feelings that Bucky’d fought down – it all came flooding back. But _this_ Steve was so different than the one he remembered. He was tall and broad, muscular and rugged, and Bucky blinked over and over, trying to understand what was happening.

He gulped and scrubbed his hands over his face hard. The idea that brave, wonderful Steve was seeing him this way – seeing what he’d turned into – it made him want to throw up. There could be no illusions as to what Bucky was actually doing at that club and for the first time in _years_, Bucky felt ashamed, _dirty _even.

Luckily, he had a defense mechanism, no matter how it turned his stomach to use it. “Oh, Stevie,” he flirted easily, “when’d you go and get so big and beautiful?”

Bucky couldn’t let Steve look at him that way anymore, as if no time had passed, as if they were those same kids. Too much had happened for that to be true. There was too much time and space between them now, too much pain that couldn’t be ignored.

But Bucky knew the score. He knew the people involved and knew that this murder would get buried. When it did, Steve would disappear from Bucky’s life, as if he’d never been there.

“I, uh,” Steve began, obviously thrown off by Bucky’s shift from sullen to seductive. “I guess I finally hit puberty.”

The joke missed the mark, though Bucky did laugh – but it was the same laugh he gave his clients when they tried to ease the tension. It wasn’t real.

“Well,” Bucky replied, flashing his sexiest smile, “it suits you,”

Something flickered across Steve’s face – anger, maybe. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Um, thanks,” he replied, slowly, as if feeling the words out. “So, can we continue?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow but gestured for Steve to go on, waving his hand. “I don’t know what else I can tell you. I met the guy, took my jacket off, offered to buy him a drink, and went to the bar. I was waiting for the bartender to notice me when I heard the gunshots. I dropped to the ground and covered my head.”

_Covered my eyes more like_, Bucky thought. _They won’t kill you if you haven’t seen their faces_.

“Had you ever seen the guy before?” He asked, writing notes.

Shaking his head, Bucky answered, “No.” He kept his responses short and to the point to avoid sharing anything real.

The truth was, Bucky _didn’t_ really know the guy; he only had a first name, as well as a time and place to meet. _Aldrich. Le Bain, 11:30._ Natasha told him that he’d been requested specifically, which wasn’t entirely unusual – what _had been_ unusual was that he’d paid Natasha enough that she canceled Bucky’s regular client for the night.

“Was anyone else familiar to you?”

Bucky shrugged. “Sure, I go to Le Bain sometimes, so I recognized the bartender and one of the bouncers.”

“Any of the dancers or people at the bar?”

“No,” Bucky answered easily. “But I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Steve looked up. “I thought you were looking for Mr. Right.”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “Maybe I wanted Mr. Right to find _me_.”

Steve didn’t seem to know how to respond to that but, before he could try, his phone rang. He stood up, digging in his pocket. “Excuse me,” he said, distantly, and took the call outside in the hall.

Bucky stretched his back, lifting his arms over his head and yawning. He pushed the mug away, uninterested in drinking the shit that cops had the audacity to call ‘coffee.’ After another moment, the door opened and Bucky was surprised to see a woman there, instead of Steve.

“Mr. Barnes,” she said in an almost bored tone. “You can go for now. We’ll get your statement later.”

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 won't be up this quickly but I wanted to give you guys a little plot - and a little background. :D

Bucky could hear the gunshots – the loudest things he’d ever heard in his life. They were so distinct over the music. He turned, seeing a faceless man holding a gun, aiming it at him.

“Snitch,” the man growled and pulled the trigger.

Bucky shot up in his bed. He could still hear the loud banging, though he wasn’t sure if it was a remnant of his nightmare or maybe a hangover. He lay back down, twisting the soft cotton sheets up but he didn’t care. His blackout curtains kept the sunlight from bothering him, which he appreciated. It had been after five when Bucky finally got home, so a pounding headache was something he could deal with.

Then he remembered he hadn’t actually gotten to finish his drink – then he remembered_ why_ – and realized what was happening.

“Oh fuck,” he grumbled, dragging himself out of bed and tossing his navy blue satin robe on. It had been a gift from Natasha, one that she thought he would never wear, but he loved the luxurious way it felt against his bare skin. When he’d gotten home, he’d shucked off all of his clothes except his underwear and the robe covered to his mid-thigh.

As he lumbered out of his spacious bedroom toward the door, the loud knocking came again, accompanied this time by a voice. “Barnes? Are you in there?”

Bucky stopped dead. “Oh no,” he whispered, covering his mouth. _That’s not the cops_.

Bucky’s hands shook as he pulled his long hair into a bun and tied the robe tighter around himself. As much as he didn’t want to, he knew he had to open the door.

“Y-yeah,” he called back as he turned the locks, one by one. “I’m here.”

As soon as it was open, two men shoved their way in and Bucky was pushed back so hard, he almost knocked his foyer table over. “Watch it,” he growled at them, steadying himself.

They turned and fixed him with their gaze. “Rumlow, Rollins,” a dark voice called and Bucky turned toward the open doorway. Alexander Pierce walked in, looking at Bucky with poorly disguised interest. Bucky wished he’d put more clothing on. “Apologize to Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky glanced over and watched the two men look at each other before mumbling small apologies. Pierce nodded and stepped through the door, heading toward the living room as if he were often a guest in Bucky’s apartment.

Bucky didn’t follow him; instead, he rushed into his kitchen and made an espresso. Once it was done, he threw it back and made two more – one for Pierce. Bucky set the small mugs on the coffee table and took a seat across from him, but he made sure to keep his head high.

“Thank you,” Pierce said, taking a drink. His eyes wandered over Bucky’s bare legs before he turned his attention back to his face. “This is a nice apartment, Barnes.”

Bucky nodded, drinking the espresso in one shot again. “Thanks.”

“Get in late?”

Bucky nodded. “The cops had me at the station for hours, not to mention being stuck at the club.”

“You, of course, know better than to talk to them,” Pierce said.

Bucky swallowed. “Yes, I do.”

Pierce cocked an eyebrow. “What did you tell them?”

“The truth,” Bucky answered. “I heard the gunshots, dropped to the ground, and covered my head.”

Pierce’s face held an expression of pride that made Bucky feel like a race dog that had just won its owner’s approval. “Were you with a client?” He asked and Bucky adjusted in his seat, keeping his lips set in a firm line. “Did you tell them who you were with?”

“Of course not,” Bucky asserted, sharply. “It’s not my first time talking to cops.”

Pierce considered that, then took another sip. “Are they done with you?”

“No,” Bucky admitted with a shake of his head. “They didn’t finish getting my statement, such as it is.”

“Do you want someone with you?” Pierce asked and Bucky knew he wasn’t offering out of the goodness of his heart. “I can arrange it.”

“If I need a lawyer, Natasha will take care of it.”

Bucky was acting recklessly, he knew that. Pierce’s slight smile had faded and his eyes were narrowed. He did not like what Bucky was saying; he did not like being denied. Pierce was dangerous; the rumors of his temper were enough to make even Natasha avoid business with him.

He could destroy everything Bucky had worked so hard to earn. He could take all of his clients away until he was all Bucky had left, use him up, and spit him out.

Bucky never wanted to owe Alexander Pierce _anything_. It was suicide to be indebted to a man like him.

“I see,” Pierce replied. He held Bucky’s gaze for a long moment, then stood up. “Thanks for the coffee. I’ll send Rumlow to check in after the police talk to you again.”

Bucky got up and followed them to ensure they left. As Rumlow was exiting, he turned to give Bucky a once-over and a lewd grin. It made Bucky’s skin crawl. Once the door was closed, he secured all of the locks and took deep, calming breaths.

It was several minutes before he stopped shaking but he finished his espresso and took a hot shower, then checked his phone.

Natasha had called him several times, so he dialed her number. “_James_,” she answered on the first ring. “_Are you okay?_”

“Yes, Nat,” he replied, “I think so.”

“_Pierce came to see me_,” she said.

“Me too.”

“_He did? Are you okay_?”

Bucky sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I’m alright. It just… it scared me.”

“_Do you need anything_?”

Bucky took a deep breath. “I might need an attorney. The cops want to question me again, I think.”

“_If you do, I’ll arrange it. I know someone_.”

“Thanks, Nat,” he said before the line went dead.

Bucky wandered into his massive kitchen and opened the refrigerator. That room had been the reason he’d wanted the apartment, really. He loved cooking and had always envisioned making special meals for… he had no idea who. There was no one Bucky trusted enough to let his guard down like that.

He pulled out a carton of eggs and some vegetables, then set to cooking. It relaxed him, though the coffee had given him the jitters.

He ate a late breakfast – noting the time as 2:49 – and then looked at his phone. He opened one of the folders on his homescreen, which required a password. Bucky typed it in and then a calendar app opened. Every date had at least one appointment scheduled and Bucky selected the agenda for that evening.

It was a regular who Bucky generally enjoyed. He hoped that the cops wouldn’t call him in and force him to cancel.

He locked the app and set his phone down while he continued eating his omelet. After he was done, he cleaned all of the dishes and set them out to dry. He went room by room, picking up his laundry and then set the basket by the folding doors that concealed his washer and dryer. While he was trying to determine what to do next, his phone began vibrating.

The caller was identified at ‘Restricted’ so Bucky answered it. “This is James,” he said in a voice that could be perceived as either seductive or bored.

“_Um_,” a deep voice started, “_J-James Barnes_? _This is St- er, Detective Rogers_.”

The stuttering and nervous tone in Steve’s voice made Bucky’s heart flutter but he staunchly ignored it. “I have to come in _now_?”

“_No, I – we can come to you_,” Steve offered. “_If that’s alright_.”

“Fine,” Bucky agreed. “You should know,” he went on, “the chairs at the fucking station are uncomfortable as fuck. I’m willing to bet you get confessions just so people can get out of them.”

He hadn’t meant to make a joke; he hadn’t meant to come off as flirtatious, but Steve’s laughter filled his ear. “_Yeah_,” he replied, obviously grinning, “_they’re pretty bad_.”

Bucky gave Steve his address and hung up before he could say anything else. Leaving his phone on the marble counter, he rushed to his bedroom to change out of the comfortable clothes he’d put on after his shower.

Opening his closet, Bucky zeroed in on his tightest black jeans, the ones that made his ass look amazing. He pushed the hangers around, digging for the sheer, white Henley that swooped low enough to show the tattoo over his heart.

He let his hair down and ran his fingers through it, checking himself in the mirror once more. None of this was the real him – this apartment, these clothes, this _life_ – it was all armor and it protected him.

When big, beautiful, perfect Steve knocked on his door, Bucky knew he needed that armor more than ever.

He opened the door and stepped back with a grin. He drew his lower lip between his teeth and gave Steve an obvious once-over. He was in gray slacks and a sleek navy blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up; his beard was neatly trimmed and his hair was slicked back.

He looked _delicious_.

The woman who’d released Bucky that morning stood on his left; her brown curls were pulled into a bun and she wore a more conservative black pantsuit. They were both carrying their sidearms.

“Hi, Steve,” he said, waving his arm to gesture them in.

“It’s Detective Rogers,” Steve corrected, though it didn’t sound convincing. As he stepped inside, he added, “This is my partner, Detective Hill.”

Hill was a very no-nonsense woman and Bucky decided he liked that about her. “Come in, please,” he said, leading them to his living room.

He took a seat on one of his armchairs while they took the couch. Steve looked around them, taking in Bucky’s home with open curiosity. Hill, on the other hand, kept her blue eyes firmly set on Bucky, as if he might make a run for it at any moment.

“Mr. Barnes,” Steve began, “we need to go over your statement from, uh, this morning.” Bucky cocked and eyebrow but didn’t answer. “You arrived at Le Bain at what time?”

Bucky pursed his lips. “11:30, maybe a little before.”

“And you met your date there?” Hill asked.

“I didn’t have a date,” Bucky asserted. “I arrived alone and checked out the crowd before some guy caught my attention.”

Hill opened a folder and held up an overhead shot of the club, probably from one of its own security cameras. “Was this him?” She asked.

In the frame, Bucky could clearly identify himself sitting on a chair; next to him, he could see Aldrich, if that really was his name. “Uh, yeah,” he answered with a grin. “Tall, blond, beautiful.” He winked at Steve. “Guess I have a type.”

Steve coughed, though it sounded as if he were covering up a different sound. A gasp of moral outrage, Bucky supposed. Indifferent to this interaction, Hill pressed on. “And his name?”

Bucky shrugged. “I never got it. I sat down and asked if he was alone, then offered to buy him a drink.”

He looked at the picture again and swallowed; the image was grainy but Bucky thought he could see something underneath Aldrich’s coat.

He’d had a gun. _Was he the shooter_?

Hill sighed. “Mr. Barnes, you _need_ to cooperate with us.”

Steve sat up straighter and opened his mouth but shut it once Bucky began speaking.

“I _am_ cooperating,” he challenged. “I don’t know anything but what I’m telling you. I heard shots and I dropped to the floor, covered my head, and hoped I wouldn’t die.” His voice cracked and he hated it, hated knowing there was a glimpse behind the curtain. He couldn’t let them see any more. “If you don’t have any more questions –” he began but was interrupted by Hill’s cell phone ringing.

“Excuse me,” she said, standing and walking back to the door. After a second, Bucky heard it shut.

“I’m sorry about that,” Steve said and Bucky looked at him.

Shaking his head, Bucky admitted, “I’m used to it.”

“Why were you at the club?” Steve asked suddenly and his tone was more intense, bordering on anxious.

Bucky frowned. “I already told you.”

“No, you didn’t,” he accused, sitting forward. “You can’t lie to me, Buck. You never could,” he insisted. “I _know_ you.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bucky leaned closer. “You don’t know me anymore, _Detective_.”

Before Steve could even open his mouth to argue, Hill rushed back in. “Rogers, we should go.”

Hesitating, Steve tried, “I – I –”

“_Now_,” she ordered and spun on her heel, rushing out of the apartment.

Bucky stood up, smiling cordially. “Thanks for stopping by,” he said without any real sincerity and held his arm out to lead Steve to the door. Steve followed him with a confused look on his face, as if he hadn’t expected any of this to happen. Bucky joked, “I always do feel safer with a big man in my house.”

Steve turned then, looming over him with such a strange expression. He looked… concerned but also angry and a little sad. It reminded Bucky of the last time he’d seen Steve before Bucky and his family had moved out of New York.

It reminded him of the night they’d kissed.

Steve didn’t speak or offer any regards; instead, he stomped through the open door without turning back once, leaving Bucky with an emptiness in his gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Steve's POV!  
(From NOW, updates will be slower XD)  
This chapter is dedicated to jt341! <3

Steve flung himself into the passenger seat of Maria’s car and turned to her. “Why did you pull me out? I could’ve gotten something from him.”

“Oh, _please_,” she drawled. “He’s a high-class call boy, Steve. His clients are his livelihood and he’d lose them if he started naming them to cops.”

Steve clenched his jaw. “Does he have a record?”

“Two arrests for solicitation,” she answered, pulling away from the curb and into busy Brooklyn traffic.

“How long ago?” Steve asked, looking out the window.

“Three years.”

Steve sighed. “Well, that means he’s built up a list of regulars.”

“You think the shooter was one of them?”

Shaking his head, Steve said, “No. In the video footage, he really did seem like he didn’t know who he was approaching in that club.”

“You think he was trying to pick the guy up?” She asked.

“I didn’t say that,” Steve countered. “Maybe it was a first meeting with a new client.”

She nodded, then looked at him with a flat expression. “Steve, you cannot follow him around.”

“He needs protection, Maria,” Steve argued. “The man he was meeting shot someone. What if Bucky was the target?”

“_Bucky_? Who the hell is Bucky?” She asked, confused.

Huffing a breath, he shook his head. “Nothing.”

She hesitated for a moment before she asked, “Do you know the witness?”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek. He knew it was a conflict of interest that could get him removed from the case, especially if it turned out that Bucky was somehow involved. But he also knew that Bucky was in danger.

“No,” he lied, easily. “I don’t know him. I just misspoke.” Without even glancing her way, he could tell that she didn’t buy that, but she didn’t argue. “Just get us back to the station,” he urged.

The remainder of the drive was spent in silence though Steve’s mind was anything but quiet. In less than twenty-four hours, Steve had been assigned a murder case and had reunited with his childhood best friend, neither of which were turning out as he would have hoped.

The case looked like a major gang hit that could be extremely dangerous and Bucky… well, that was really complicated.

In the middle of that thought, Steve’s phone chirped. Pulling it out of his pocket, he opened the newest text. “Sam has something for us,” he said.

They arrived back at the precinct and immediately made their way upstairs. Sam, the Crime Scene Tech, clapped Steve on the shoulder when they walked through the door.

Turning to greet him, Steve stopped short. “Captain Fury,” he said, nodding his head.

“Alright,” Sam said, as if the precinct Captain was not in the room at all. “I have some good news and some bad news.”

“Good news first,” Maria said, glancing at Fury.

“We know the ID of your vic,” Sam said, picking up a thick file. “Emil Blonsky, age thirty-eight. Born in Yugoslavia.”

“And the bad?” Steve asked.

Before Sam could respond, Fury stepped forward. “He was an informant.” Steve and Maria looked at each other with dawning realization. “This was a hit,” Fury continued.

Steve steeled himself. “Sir, the… escort that was at the scene,” he ventured, “Hill and I think he was meeting a new client.”

“The shooter,” Fury surmised.

“Yes,” Steve agreed. “If the hit was planned, which it appears that it _was_, that could mean that Barnes was a potential target.”

“Or an accomplice,” Hill interjected.

Steve bit his cheek to keep from barking at her. “Yes, that is a possibility, except he obviously doesn’t recognize the shooter in the video.”

“He’s a professional, Rogers,” Fury suggested. “Acting is a big part of what they do.”

“Sir, I – I don’t think so. I’m trusting my gut on this one.”

Fury considered him for a long moment, his one eye unblinking before he replied, “Your gut has served you well in the past, Rogers.”

“Yes, sir, it has,” he answered.

Without further response, Fury left the lab and Maria looked at Steve. “I’m going home for the night. Monday morning, I’ll go to the gang task force to see if Blonsky’s handler will talk to me.”

Steve nodded. “Text me if you get anything.”

With that, Maria followed Fury out of the room and Sam walked over. “What was that about, man?” He asked.

Steve rubbed his eyes and suggested, “You interested in getting a beer?”

Sam chuckled. “I was hopin’ you’d ask.” They left the precinct and turned right to make their way to _Nomad_. “So, you wanna fill me in?” Sam asked.

Steve looked around them, feeling paranoid for more than one reason following Fury’s revelation. “When we’re there,” he agreed.

They arrived and took seats in a booth near the windows. Steve didn’t like it because there were ears everywhere but it was loud enough that he didn’t think they would be overheard. “So –” Sam began but was interrupted by the arrival of a tall, thin young man with thick-rimmed glasses.

“Hi, I’m Peter, I’ll be your server tonight,” he said, smiling and handing each of them a menu. His hair seemed to defy gravity but Steve knew that was the style these days. “Can I get you started with a couple beers?”

Steve nodded. “I’ll take a Sam Adam’s Lager.”

Grimacing at Steve’s order, Sam said, “IPA, please.”

“You got it,” Peter said and turned to leave.

Steve scratched his beard a bit and asked, “How’s Wanda?”

“She’s good,” Sam replied. He knew that Steve was stalling but let it slide. “We went to an ultrasound appointment last week and the doctor said we’ll be able to know the gender next month.”

“That’s awesome, Sam,” Steve congratulated, then turned his attention to Peter as he approached.

He set two bottles and two chilled glasses on the table, then stood up straight. “What sounds good for dinner tonight?”

“I’ll have a cheeseburger with everything and loaded fries.” Sam shut his menu and looked up, meeting Steve’s horrified gaze. “What? I missed lunch.”

Peter laughed as he wrote Sam’s order down. “And for you?”

“I’ll have the pan roasted chicken with salad, please.” Steve closed his menu as well and handed it to Peter before he walked away. When Steve glanced at Sam, he chuckled and asked, “You joining me for a run in the morning?”

“Ha ha,” Sam mocked. “You’re the one that skipped out on me today.”

“I was also the one called in at quarter-to-four,” he griped back.

“Oh yeah,” Sam said, as if he’d forgotten what they’d been discussing. “You were telling me about that.”

Steve sighed and rubbed his neck. “Yeah, uh, yeah. Okay.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, as if he could wipe away the emotions attached to the story he was about to tell. “The, uh, the witness,” he began. “James Barnes.”

“Yeah,” Sam exhorted.

Steve sighed and looked at his beer, remembering that morning. “I got the call at three – there’d been a shooting at the club and Fury wanted me and Hill on it. He said the scene was still being processed but witnesses had been brought to the precinct, so I came in.” He took a long drink, hoping Sam wouldn’t notice.

“There were more than twenty witnesses, I heard,” Sam added. “I know they sent the drunk ones home.”

Steve nodded. “A few of us got called in to help take statements.” He shifted, turning his body so he could cross his legs, then uncrossed them.

“Something’s got you good, Steve,” Sam commented, observing Steve’s restlessness. “What is it about this Barnes?”

Steve sighed. “They told me there was a hooker in that interview room, that he may have been at the club with a John but we didn’t care. I think someone told me his name but… I don’t remember. I wasn’t fully awake. But they gave me his preliminary statement and the file and… Shit, Sam,” he grumbled.

“What _is it_, Steve?” He demanded.

“I grew up with him,” Steve finally admitted. “I grew up with him and I can’t get kicked off this case.”

Sam swallowed. “Okay. Lay this out for me.”

Steve nodded, meeting Sam’s eyes for only a moment before he stared down at his beer again. It was difficult to recall the events without experiencing the rollercoaster of emotions he’d gone through that morning. Surprise at hearing Bucky’s name; excitement about seeing his old friend; anxiety about what Bucky might think of him; sadness that he didn’t recognize Steve; and then anger after learning what Bucky’d been doing at that club.

“James Barnes was two years younger than me but, you know, I was small then. He stood up for me. He protected me.” Steve took another gulp of beer. “Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky.”

Sam was listening intently, leaning forward to keep their conversation as private as it could be in a crowded restaurant.

“Then… then, his family moved to Indiana and we lost touch. I didn’t even know he’d moved back,” Steve added. “I hadn’t seen him in almost fifteen years.” Steve scrubbed both hands over his face, feeling his skin heat up as it had that morning. “I saw his name on that file and, suddenly, I was a seventeen-year-old kid again.”

Sam waited a moment, ensuring that Steve had finished speaking. “So, because he looked out for you,” he surmised, “you feel a… responsibility to protect him now.”

“Yes, but –”

“Regardless of the fact that you could be investigated by IA _and_ the case could be thrown out because you lied about your relationship to a witness.”

Steve clenched his jaw. “He’s my _friend_.”

Sam hesitated for a moment before he went on. “You know why he was there last night, Steve. You know what he is now.” Steve nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes at the direction this was going. “Maybe he’s not the kind you _save_.”

“What?” Steve thundered.

“He didn’t even _remember_ you, Steve,” Sam reminded.

Taking a deep breath, Steve met Sam’s eyes. “He will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you notice the canon dialogue? TT_TT


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Bucky's POV and begins to show us what his work is like and how he approaches it. I'm really happy about it because my fic is very sex worker positive. If you have thoughts or ideas about how I can add more of that to the fic, I'd be happy to hear your thoughts. I've done a lot of research into it so I can make it realistic.  
I hope you enjoy!

Bucky sipped his coffee, seated in front of Sharon’s computer while she showered. After she left, he’d shower and dress in his suit and tie to keep from standing out in such a high class area. She’d reserved them a room at the Park Hyatt with a view of Central Park and he’d fucked her up against the windows.

She always paid extra so he’d stay the night with her, which he was more than happy to do, and they spent hours talking. That was a big part of this job that he had never anticipated – the _emotional_ work. Sure, his clients wanted sex; they wanted a fantasy. But, it turned out, many of them wanted advice, or to vent about work, or even just to talk about their kids.

Sharon struggled under the weight of her grandmother’s shadow. Bucky didn’t know who her grandmother was but he knew that she was some bigwig in a government position.

When her laptop finally came on, Bucky typed his search parameters into her browser. _Detective Steven Rogers_. Several hundred thousand links popped up but some of them weren’t even the right name. He tried again, adding _NYPD_ to the search criteria and got better results.

_NYPD Solves String of Missing Persons Cases_

_Missing Child Found Safe_

_Detective Takes Down Dog-Fighting Ring in Brooklyn_

_Brooklyn Detective Honored by Mayor_

Biting his lip, Bucky opened one of the articles and read through it. Before he even reached the middle, he was smiling. As it turned out, the scrawny kid Bucky’d known had become quite a good man.

“James?” Sharon called and Bucky shut the laptop down. She wouldn’t have minded him using it, he knew, but he wanted her to know she had his undivided attention.

“Yes, lover?” He purred as he stood up to make his way to the bedroom.

Her blond hair was wet, cascading over her bare shoulders. “You think we got time for one more?”

Smiling, he replied, “Baby, I always got time for you… but won’t you be late?”

Her smile faded and she sighed, nodding. “I know. But… again, soon?”

Opening his calendar app, he typed in the password and clicked on a few days. “You’re set for Thursday night. When and where do you want me?”

She beamed at him then. “The Chatwal? At 8:30? I’ll order us some dinner.”

He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “I can’t wait.”

Sharon left a short time later and Bucky got in the shower. He took his time, washing his hair and conditioning it, scrubbing his body, and letting the hot water relax his muscles.

_Steve_, he thought. _When’d you go and get so big and beautiful_?

Once he got out, he brushed his teeth and dressed in his dark blue slacks and white button-up. He used the blow dryer on his hair and then pulled it into a messy bun. The suit jacket made him look like every other boring Wall Street investor and that was the point.

As he was leaving, he slipped a pair of fake glasses on and used his rolling suitcase. Pulling it along behind him, looking down at his phone, no one paid him any attention. The doorman helped him get a cab and Bucky slipped him a fifty-dollar bill.

In the mid-morning traffic, it took almost an hour to get to Brooklyn, which Bucky was used to. It was the price he paid for sleeping over but it wasn’t so bad. The cab dropped him off in front of a Starbucks that Bucky hadn’t been in before, but he really needed another coffee.

Stepping inside, he drug his suitcase close behind him to keep it from running over anyone’s toes. He approached the counter, smiling at the barista. “Morning,” he greeted.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” She asked.

“Venti iced coffee with sweetener, please.”

He paid, including a generous tip, and stepped away from the register. Looking down at his phone, he opened his calendar app and checked his schedule for that night. Bucky smiled, seeing he had a date with one of his few couples.

“Bucky?” A voice called and he looked up, recognizing it immediately.

Sitting at a table a few feet away, he found Steve. “Are you following me?”

Steve put both hands up. “Hey, I was here long before you walked in.”

Bucky was about to respond when his order was called and he hurried to the counter to get it. He added creamer and, when he turned, looking for somewhere to sit, he frowned. Every seat was taken – except one next to Steve.

He started for the door when Steve called to him, “Come on, sit down, Buck.” Bucky hesitated for a moment, meeting Steve’s gaze. “I’m off duty,” he added. “It’s just me.”

Bucky licked his lips and nodded, taking the offered chair. “Thanks.”

Steve smiled, taking a drink of his own coffee. “You hungry?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, uh, I don’t really eat breakfast.”

Steve sat back, as if he’d been ready to jump up if Bucky had asked. That was… _interesting._

“Are you going somewhere?” Steve asked, glancing at Bucky’s bag.

“No,” he answered, simply, taking a sip from his drink.

Steve sighed, “Okay, Buck.”

His voice sounded so defeated, an instinct that Bucky had long ago buried came screaming to life. “Do you… still paint?”

Steve’s eyes widened at the question. “Uh,” he began, “not as often as I used to.”

Bucky frowned. “Why not?”

Shrugging, Steve said, “I just don’t have the time these days.”

“That’s too bad,” Bucky blurted out before taking a long drink from his coffee.

Steve looked up at him. “Yeah? You, uh, you remember?”

“Of course, I remember,” Bucky defended. “I was the subject on more than one occasion.”

Steve’s cheeks turned pink. “I didn’t know you knew.”

Bucky laughed. “Really, Stevie?” He leaned forward to tug his suit jacket off.

Steve’s smile softened and he looked at Bucky with an expression that shot straight through him. It was open affection, even tenderness, and it _hurt_ to see.

Bucky gulped. “How’s your mom?”

Bucky could tell immediately that he’d asked the wrong thing. Steve’s eyes were downcast and nearly every ounce of happiness had faded.

“She, uh, she died. Five years ago.”

“Oh,” Bucky gasped, furrowing his brows. “Oh, no, Steve, I’m so sorry. I hadn’t – I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine, Buck,” Steve assured, leaning forward to touch Bucky’s wrist. “She’d been sick for a while.” He left his hand where it was and neither of them seemed to notice. “How’s Winnie? And your dad?”

Bucky shrugged one shoulder. “I haven’t spoken to them in a while but they’re okay.”

He could tell that Steve wanted to ask more, but he didn’t. “And Rebecca?”

“She’s okay,” Bucky answered. “She’ll graduate from Indiana State this year.”

“Wow,” Steve breathed, “time really has gone by.”

Bucky swallowed. “Yeah. It’s been more than fifteen years, Steve.”

“Did you, uh, go to college?”

Nodding his head, Bucky said, “Yeah. Graduated Cum Laude from Purdue.”

Steve blinked, obviously shocked by this revelation. “Holy shit, Buck, I – that’s amazing!”

“Thanks,” he replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

Steve’s eyes tracked the movement of Bucky’s hand. “You, uh, you look… nice today,” he murmured.

Bucky couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “Oh, uh, thank you.”

Steve blinked and shifted in his seat, taking another drink of coffee. “How long have you been back in Brooklyn?” he asked.

“After I graduated, I moved back,” Bucky replied. “I couldn’t go back home.”

Steve frowned. “Why not?”

Bucky held Steve’s gaze as he spoke, watching for his reaction. “I, uh, well, I came out to my parents and my dad told me not to come back.”

“Are you serious? Buck, I’m so sorry, I –” He stopped and swallowed, dropping his eyes to the table and finally pulling his hand away.

It was the moment Bucky had wanted to avoid – the reminder of what had happened between them. Bucky remembered it vividly.

“I’m going to get going,” Bucky finally said.

Steve sat forward. “Uh, Buck, wait –”

Bucky pulled his jacket on again and stood from the table, hardly looking up once. “See ya, Stevie,” he murmured, dragging the suitcase behind him as he walked through the doors.

There was nothing that Steve could say to change what had happened between them.

When he arrived at his apartment, he texted Nat to confirm his appointment for that night.

**Nat 11:37 AM: ** _They’d never miss a night with you, dear._

**Bucky 11:38 AM:** _Thanks, doll_.

Bucky quickly removed his clothes and packed them away in his garment bag to be dry cleaned. He started laundry and then made himself some lunch before dropping onto his couch and turning his _Playstation_ on.

After a couple of hours of gaming, Bucky made his way to the gym in his building and spent some time on the treadmill. He worked out daily but switched between cardio and weights to maintain a lithe, toned physique.

Bucky’s clients wanted a fit man but he didn’t want to be bulky.

_Like Steve_, his mind supplied.

Sighing, he shut the treadmill down and returned to his apartment, covered in sweat. He showered and dug through his closet to find an outfit for that night. He found a casual white button-up and dark wash jeans that weren’t too snug, since both Jane and Thor liked him to be a bit more masculine when they met up. He’d wear his black bomber jacket to complete the look.

He laid the clothes out on his bed and wandered into the living room in his boxers. He had decent-sized windows which he loved, but he’d splurged on window treatments that allowed him to maintain privacy at all times. He cooked dinner, making sure to include a lot of protein, and then he spent some time on his hair.

Thor had long hair too and Bucky imagined that Jane had a type, since she’d seemed overjoyed when they met Bucky for the first time.

When he was done, he got dressed and found his sneakers, then packed more clothes into a bag. It would take some time to get to the hotel, so he made his way downstairs and hailed a cab. “Where you headed?” The driver asked.

“The William Vale,” Bucky answered, sliding in the backseat.

The driver nodded his head and pulled away from the curb. The drive was quiet, apart from the talk radio but it wasn’t too loud. Bucky arrived right on time and made his way to the desk.

“Hi, I’m here under Odinson,” he announced before the clerk could ask.

She nodded. “Your name?”

“James,” he answered.

“Right, sir,” she replied, smiling. “They asked me to give you this envelope and a key. It’s room 1941.”

Bucky took them from her and made his way to the elevator. He stowed his bag in the room, tucked away in a drawer, then headed to the bar on the twenty-second floor. It was an open-air lounge with a gorgeous view of the East River and Manhattan.

Bucky didn’t require that his clients take him to fancy hotels and it wasn’t ever requested by Natasha. Of course, he preferred to fuck on clean sheets but he could do that in any half-decent place. However, he was always invited to high end bars and restaurants, then to classy hotels. Considering his rates, it was obvious that his clients all made quite of bit of money but he doubted that any of them spent much time in places like this.

Maybe some of them did, but not all. He was sure that part of the point was that they could pretend they had wooed a beautiful man into their beds by showing off their status. He knew that, for some of his clients, part of the fantasy _was_ their wealth.

He could work with that.

Taking a moment, he looked around the area. It didn’t take long to locate Jane, standing at the bar in a beautiful red, backless dress and black heels. She’d cut her hair since he’d seen her last but he wouldn’t mention that until later – way later.

He approached on her right and looked around the roof for a moment, as if he hadn’t noticed her. Then, he looked over and turned his whole body toward her. “Hi,” he said, smiling.

She met his eyes and her mouth curved into a smile of her own. “Hi.”

He glanced around her. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Oh, I, uh,” she stuttered, “yeah, sure.”

“I’ll have a Disaronno on the rocks and another glass of red wine for…” He said, though he drug out the sound of the last word.

“Oh, it’s Jane,” she introduced and smiled.

“Jane,” he repeated. “I’m James.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “What do you do?”

“I’m in advertising,” he answered easily. “And you?”

“I teach Astronomy at CUNY-Brooklyn.”

“Is he bothering you?” A deep, accented voice asked and Bucky looked up to find Thor there. He wasn’t smiling though there was a twinkle in his eye that Bucky recognized.

“No, Thor. He just bought me a drink,” she replied, smiling. “That’s all.”

Bucky held Thor’s gaze. “Is it?” He asked. “All?” Both Jane and Thor cocked an eyebrow and grinned at him. “Because there could _always_ be more.”

The couple exchanged glances before Thor set cash on the bar.

_Bingo_, Bucky thought to himself as they all left the rooftop together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think? :D <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I couldn't wait. But the next one won't update until at least Sunday... (she said, knowing she may not be able to wait that long...)  
Anyway, a big THANK YOU to [mma_mookie](https://twitter.com/mma_mookie) for the art in this chapter.  
The boys get to spend a little time together and it doesn't go very well. Steve ends up thinking on their history... and maybe their future? We're finally earning that E rating! Plus he almost lets a little something slip... wonder what that might be? >:D  
<3

Steve stood outside the fence, marveling at how much the community garden had changed since he’d last been there. Though, when he thought it over, everything around it had changed too, including him. From within, he could hear children’s voices, calling to their parents, and the sounds of dogs barking. As he stepped through the gate and walked along the familiar path, he was struck by the nostalgia of this place.

He remembered when he and Bucky had volunteered to plant trees – well, _Steve_ volunteered them. The work was hard but Steve had been too stubborn to admit he couldn’t do it. Bucky knew though – he knew when Steve was on the brink of an asthma attack, or when his arms felt like they were about to fall off.

Once, Bucky had known everything about Steve – all of his tells, all of his weaknesses – and Steve had known Bucky’s.

_You don’t know me anymore._

Steve sighed and rolled the sleeves of his red henley up, wondering if he was actually feeling heat or if it was just the memories of that hot summer. The late morning sun beat down and he knew the humidity would only get worse.

Continuing deeper into the garden, Steve found where the voices had come from – there was a grouping of decorative iron tables and chairs with families seated at them. They were all looking toward the other side of the open area where about a dozen dogs were running and playing, or lying on the ground. When Steve saw the kennels and folding sign, he realized the local shelter was holding an adoption day.

His smile widened and he stepped forward but the sound of someone saying his name halted his steps. “Steve?”

He turned and found – “Bucky?”

Steve’s eyes went wide and he could feel his face flush. Bucky was sitting with a disposable coffee cup on the table; his hair was tied up and he was wearing glasses again.

“I, uh, I –”

“What are you doing here?” Bucky demanded in the defensive tone that Steve was becoming all too familiar with.

After their interaction at Starbucks, Steve understood better how he would need to approach Bucky. If they were going to move forward, he knew they would need to address what had happened between them, but more importantly, Steve would have to move_ slowly. _Bucky didn’t trust him; he didn’t trust cops. Steve needed to work hard to _earn _Bucky’s trust.

However, before Steve could respond, a flash of silver appeared and a dog was on Bucky, kissing his face and smearing wet paws on his dark jeans.

“Oh, hey,” Bucky cooed, smiling. “Yeah, I know, it’s been a while.”

As Steve watched, the hostility drained from Bucky’s expression and was replaced by something Steve hadn’t seen on Bucky’s face in years: contentment.

_I want to see that all the time_, he thought to himself. Hesitantly, he stepped closer and sat down next to them. “Is he yours?”

Bucky looked at him. “Oh, no,” he mourned. “My, uh… job isn’t conducive to having a dog.” Steve was almost surprised that Bucky had even mentioned his work but he hoped it meant… something. “This is Bastille. He’s a purebred Blue Nose Pit Bull. Bastille,” he said, looking at Bastille’s face. “This is Steve Rogers. He’s a cop.”

Bastille’s mouth hung open in a huge grin that Steve couldn’t help but fall in love with. “Hi, Bastille.” He reached over and allowed the dog to sniff his hand before he scratched behind his ear. “He’s gorgeous.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah.” His voice was wistful as he continued to pet him, smiling.

“Do you come here often?” Steve asked, licking his lips.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, rubbing the dogs cheeks and kissing his nose. “They host this two Sundays a month.”

Steve cleared his throat. “I meant… the garden.”

Bucky’s head snapped up and he stared Steve down. “Sometimes. Why?”

“I was just… I felt kind of sentimental,” Steve revealed. “So, I walked here.” He looked around them, trying to shake off the intensity of Bucky’s gaze. “It’s grown so much.”

There was a long moment of silence between them while the area around them only seemed to grow louder. Steve gulped and scrubbed his hand through his beard, suddenly feeling hot again.

“Yeah,” Bucky finally replied and Steve looked at him. “I remember… I remember how hard I had to work to plants these damn trees _and_ keep you from passing out.”

Steve laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

“Why?” Bucky asked, cocking his head. “I could never say no to you, Steve. Never wanted to.”

They stared at one another for a long time, eyes unmoving and intent. There was something charged in the air between them and the more Steve waited, the harder it became to stay still. But where would he go? What could he do?

What did he _want_ to do?

“Bastille!” Someone called and both Steve and Bucky turned to find that the shelter staff were picking up for the day. An older woman with long, white hair patted her thighs and Bastille took off, running to her. “See you next time, James!” The woman called.

Waving back, Bucky replied, “Thanks, Janet.”

They both watched as the dogs were loaded into vehicles, followed by the staff. Steve chewed his lip for a moment before he spoke. “Can I ask you something?”

Bucky blinked and sat back in his chair. “You can ask,” he drawled, “but I may choose not to answer.”

Steve nodded his head, looking around as the families began to disperse, leaving them nearly alone. “What… what _happened_ that… you started doing… what you do?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow and his face turned steely before Steve’s eyes. “I just – I’m just asking if –”

“I know what you’re asking me, Steve,” Bucky snapped. “But you’ve got it wrong. I’m an _escort. _It’s against policy for me to sleep with a client.” Steve gave him a look and Bucky frowned. “If my boss thought I was doing that, I’d be fired.”

Steve understood that prostitution had transformed for a lot of people. Gabe, a friend of his from Cyber Crimes had once explained that, with the advent of cam shows, online personal ads, and cryptocurrency, sex work had become far safer. These allowed them to vet potential clients before they were ever within one-hundred yards of each other.

Steve’s opinions about prostitution were pretty radical, so he tended to keep them to himself.

“This is off the record, Bucky.” Steve leaned forward. “I just wanted to know –”

“I _know_ you mean. You’re saying that, maybe, I was molested or got into drugs, right?” Bucky was enraged; his eyes were wild and he slammed his fist down on the metal table. “You’re saying that something _fucked up_ must have happened for me to turn to sex work. Right? That _is_ what you’re asking?”

“Buck –” Steve tried.

“No,” Bucky interrupted, standing from his chair. “You think that badge makes you _better_ than me, don’t you?” Steve swallowed around a dry throat and Bucky scoffed at his silence. “You wanna know how many cops have paid me for a quickie, Steve? How many offered to let me off if I got on my knees for ‘em?”

Steve felt sick to his stomach. He knew that cops did that and he couldn’t imagine how humiliating and degrading it must be. “Bucky, I didn’t –”

“God damn it, Steve,” Bucky snarled. “I thought… fuck I thought you’d be different. But you still judge me,” he said in a defeated sigh, glaring down at Steve. “You still think I’m worthless.”

“Bucky, I do _not_ –”

“Go fuck yourself, Steve,” Bucky barked and turned on his heel.

Steve watched him go with wide eyes. After the shock had worn off, a heavy shame overtook Steve and he dropped his head in his hands. “I’m such an asshole,” he murmured to himself before standing up to make his way home.

Later that night, he sat back on his sofa, taking a long pull from his beer. The crime scene photos were laid out on his coffee table and the witness statements were piled next to them, but he wasn’t seeing any of that.

In his mind, he was sitting on his childhood bed while Bucky cried. He remembered that day clearly – remembered how much it scared him, seeing Bucky that way. He’d tried to comfort him, but Bucky just cried harder.

“_I’m gonna miss you,_” he kept saying.

“_It’s gonna be okay, Buck,_” Steve had promised.

It was then that Steve had moved in for a hug but Bucky shifted, turned his body enough that their lips met. He could still remember how soft it had been, how Bucky had shaken under Steve’s hands, and how hurt he’d looked when Steve jerked away.

Bucky had jumped up and run out of Steve’s room, out of his house, and disappeared completely from Steve’s life.

Until the other night.

Steve wiped the stray tear off of his cheek and took another drink. He picked up Bucky’s statement and reread it for the fifth time, remembering the changes in Bucky’s demeanor when they went over certain topics. Maria had been good at keeping Bucky on task but Steve was sure that he knew a lot more than he was letting on.

In the moment, Steve had foolishly hoped that their connection could compel Bucky to talk. It had, in fact, had the opposite effect.

_You don’t know me anymore_.

_You still think I’m worthless._

Steve scrubbed his hands over his face, wishing he could rid himself of the warring emotions inside. Disappointment and sadness, but there was also pity and resentment, and anger. But there was something else.

_Curiosity_, he thought to himself, _that’s all it is_.

He wondered if Bucky worked through a site like Craig’s List, or if he had a… a madam. At that moment, he recalled that Bucky had mentioned having a boss.

On a whim, Steve opened his laptop and searched for escort services in New York City. The list that came up featured dozens of websites and hundreds of ads, offering services and dates. The photos that accompanied these sites were predominantly women, so Steve added ‘male escorts’ to his search and found more promising results.

One website was for a Brooklyn-based service called _Red Room Escorts_. It employed men and women and each one had his or her own webpage. Steve reviewed the names until he found the one he was looking for – _James_. Beside it was a photo of Bucky wearing a black suit jacket and low V-neck; his head was leaning away from the camera, though he stared into it with… _desire_.

“Christ,” Steve whispered, scrubbing his hands over his face, trying to wipe the blush away.

He clicked on Bucky’s name and it led to a profile of sorts, as well as more photos. They were innocent, really – all posed in alluring ways, though the closest he came to _undressed_ was wearing a translucent t-shirt.

At the bottom of the page, there were two links – _Meet Me_ and _Get To Know Me Better_. Steve clicked the second option, then frowned when a dialogue box opened, asking for $74.99 ‘for exclusive access.’

The rational part of his brain demanded to know how accessing that would help solve the case, while the other part… simply wanted to see it.

Digging his wallet out of his pants, Steve deftly typed in his credit card information and waited for the page to load. When it did, Steve’s eyes went wide and the blush he’d tried to restrain covered more of him than before.

The first photo had Bucky kneeling on the ground with his head thrown back in pleasure. There were ropes covering him in intricate knots. His arms were bound together, tied between his open thighs. Though the position concealed his full body, Steve could tell he was naked.

The ropes dug into his skin in certain spots, leaving the skin a beautiful pink that Steve wanted to soothe with his tongue.

_What_? He thought, setting the laptop on his coffee table and sitting back on the couch. However, once he was seated comfortably, he realized how _hard_ he was. “Oh, my God,” he breathed, dragging his hand through his hair. “I gotta calm down.”

He took several deep breaths but when he glanced at the laptop again, those deep breaths became heavier. Taking hold of the computer, Steve set it back on his lap and scrolled to the next image.

In this one, Bucky was lying on a bed – he was nude again, though he was covered from the waist down by a white sheet. His arms were above his head and his body was arched, as if he were desperately reaching toward the camera, but knew not to move his hands.

“_Steve,_” he’d whisper. “_Please, I wanna touch you._”

“No,” Steve breathed out before realizing it.

He gulped and moved on to the next photo. In it, Bucky was standing in what appeared to be an open french window; he was fully nude apart from a curtain that was strategically covering him at the hips. Steve bit his lip as he realized he could see the hint of hair just above the fabric.

The images became more and more erotic – Bucky unzipping tight jeans, revealing he wasn’t wearing anything underneath; Bucky stretching his torso, showing off defined muscles; in a misty shower, rinsing his hair with his eyes closed. One was of Bucky’s naked ass as he leaned over a balcony wall, looking over his shoulder at the camera.

Steve’s resolve remained firm – this was for the investigation, this was about learning more about Bucky’s job – until he saw the final image.

Bucky stood in a dark room with a faceless man at his back, big hands reaching around, while a woman knelt at his feet, her long hair concealing his nudity. The picture was meant to suggest that Bucky was being fucked by a man while a woman gave him a blowjob. But the part that had Steve’s heart racing wasn’t the other man or the woman – it was the intense look in Bucky’s eyes as he stared back, right through the computer, at Steve.

All willpower evaporated and Steve yanked his sweatpants down to his thighs, releasing his erection to the cool air.

Steve stared at the picture as he began stroking himself. In his mind, he was neither the man or the woman – he was who Bucky came to _after_. Moaning, he stroked faster, imagining Bucky in his apartment after a night of being fucked. He’d draw Bucky a bath and soothe him, massage his muscles, and murmur his praises deep into Bucky’s skin. When he finally took him, Bucky would still be open and loose, allowing Steve to slide right in.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, trying to picture the way Bucky would look, taking his dick. He wondered if Bucky was loud, or if Steve would have to force those moans out of him. He wondered if Bucky’s clients made him come or if he’d save that for Steve.

In his fantasy, Bucky’s head was thrown back and he was just _blissed out _and content. His hair was long and loose on the pillows and his skin was flushed pink with pleasure. Steve didn’t know if he’d ever imagined anything more beautiful than that.

A thought occurred to him and his hand tightened on himself, forcing a deep groan out of his mouth. He felt the coiling in his abdomen and he laid his head back on the couch, still looking at the photo.

“Come for me,” he breathed, staring at Bucky’s face. “Come for da–” Steve cut himself off with a grunt as he came, spilling over his hand and onto his t-shirt, but he didn’t care.

He could only bask in the afterglow for a moment before he realized what had just happened. He leapt off the couch and hurried to his bathroom, turning the hot water on in the shower. The clothes he’d been wearing were tossed in his laundry hamper before he stepped under the spray.

His thoughts were uneasy as he scrubbed himself down. All those years ago, Steve had shied away from Bucky’s touch, from the kiss he’d offered, and now… Steve _w__anted_ it. Wanted_ him… _desperately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? <3  
Did you notice those Endgame lines in here because I hate myself TT-TT


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! This chapter sets up some plot but also discusses some stuff that I'm adding tags for as well as a TW.  
**TRIGGER WARNING**  
This chapter deals with discussions of attempted rape, rape apologists, and victim blaming. If you wish to avoid that part, it begins when Steve is interviewing the two uniformed officers. I will post some notes about what they go over to ensure no plot is missed if you choose to not read that part. <3

Monday morning, while waiting for Maria, Steve glowered at his computer screen as if it had offended him. For some reason, he’d felt the need to review Bucky’s record… _again_. He’d been arrested twice for solicitation years before, but there was something else – something that made fury boil in Steve’s belly.

Bucky had reported an attempted rape the same year.

He’d gone to the precinct with bruises and a sprained wrist. He’d spoken to two uniformed officers whose names Steve recognized – Ward and Cross. He frowned when he read their names in the file. According to the report, they had taken his statement but hadn’t moved forward with an investigation, nor had they collected a rape kit. It didn’t make any sense. Bucky had even _named_ his attacker, Justin Hammer – a name Steve had heard more than once in regard to sexual assaults – and, still, the officers had done nothing.

It was no wonder Bucky had no desire to deal with the police. Steve wondered if this had happened again and went unreported; he wondered if Bucky would ever trust a cop again.

He wondered if Bucky could ever trust _him_.

“Steve,” Maria called, turning Steve’s attention from the screen. She hurried over to his desk and said, “I got something.”

Steve followed her out of the squad room and into Captain Fury’s office, shutting the door behind them. Standing up from behind the desk, Fury asked, “What did you find out, Hill?”

“I talked to Detective Banner in Vice.” Maria took a deep breath and set a thick file down. “Blonsky worked for Hydra.”

Steve’s stomach dropped. “Holy shit.” He picked up the folder and opened it.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Fury sighed, plopping back down in his chair.

“Drugs, human trafficking, Neo-Nazi ideology,” Steve listed as he reviewed the papers. “It looks like Blonsky’s information was helping to bring together a good case.”

“Also,” Maria added as she dropped into one of the seats facing the desk. “Blonsky’s handler is pretty sure he knows who set the hit up.”

“Oh?” Fury asked, raising his eyebrow.

She nodded. “Alexander Pierce.”

Steve released a short, huffing breath. “You mean Pierce of _Pierce Investments_?”

Again, she nodded. “Blonsky worked at _Pierce Investments_ and had been an informant for almost a year.”

Fury rubbed his bald head before giving each of them a concerned look. “I know I can’t get you two to back down,” he sighed. “But I ask that you tread carefully and quietly. This just got a whole hell of a lot more dangerous.”

They both nodded and exited the office to return to their desks. “Find anything important in Barnes’ file that wasn’t there yesterday, or the day before?” Maria asked, sarcastically.

Steve didn’t respond to that. “You know he reported an attempted rape?”

“I read that,” she said, nodding.

“How are we supposed to get him to talk with that hanging over us?”

Maria sighed. “Not to mention, that probably wasn’t the last time that happened and he never tried to report it again.”

Steve’s frown deepened. “You still think he’s involved?”

She pursed her lips, thinking it over. “No, not in the way I suspected initially.”

Steve smiled at that, though he knew that Maria wasn’t satisfied with the information Bucky had provided. “We gonna go interview Pierce?”

Maria nodded. “I’ll call and get an appointment.” As Steve watched, she googled_ Pierce I__nvestments_ and found a phone number. Picking up her desk phone, she dialed it and waited. “I need to speak with Mr. Pierce’s assistant,” she demanded in her cool voice. “My name is Detective Maria Hill with the NYPD. Put me through to his assistant.”

Steve grinned. Maria had always been a hard-ass, ever since Steve had met her, but especially after she became a detective.

“Yes, I’m still here,” she grumbled after a short hold. “I need to schedule time to interview Mr. Pierce. Yes, I’m sure he _is_ very busy but it will only take a few minutes We’re simply hoping to get some information on a former employee.”

Steve nodded his head. _That won’t put him on the defensive._

“That’s fine, thank you,” Maria said before hanging up. “We got five minutes on Wednesday.”

Blinking, Steve confirmed, “Wednesday?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “It was that or August.” Checking her watch, Maria stood from her desk and grabbed a few files. “I have to get to court,” she explained. “I’ll be back later this afternoon.”

Steve nodded. “I’m gonna look into a few leads.”

Maria cocked her eyebrow at him but didn’t answer. He spent the rest of the morning reviewing the information that Blonsky had provided to his handler. None of it gave names of prostitutes that were in the organization but Steve wondered if Bucky was one of them. There was nothing that referenced Red Room Escorts or any other agency that Steve knew of.

If he _wasn’t_, Steve wondered what his part had been. Was the shooter somehow unsure if he’d be successful in his assassination, so he hired Bucky just in case? Or was Bucky supposed to be there for some reason?

Steve sighed and rubbed his eyes, then clicked a file on his desktop. He opened the video from that night at the club and watched it again. When Bucky sauntered into the frame, Steve watched as dozens of eyes tracked his movements including the shooter.

From the interaction Steve observed, it appeared that Bucky had not met the shooter before. However, he knew that escorts had to have some acting talent to be successful.

Steve opened a different camera feed and watched as Bucky first entered the club. He walked inside and immediately went to the bouncer; he said something that Steve obviously couldn’t hear and the bouncer pointed something out.

Frowning, Steve rewound the video and watched it again. He checked other feeds and found that the bouncer was pointing the shooter out. He dug through the witness statements until he located the one he needed, then he jumped up and rushed out of the squad room.

_Bucky didn’t know him_, Steve thought. _But the bouncer knows him_.

He drove to the apartment of M’Baku Jabari and knocked on his door. “Mr. Jabari, it’s Detective Rogers, NYPD.”

He heard footsteps on the other side and then the locks turned, though when the door opened, the chain remained in place. “Show me your ID.” It was the tall, muscular black man from the video. Steve pulled his badge out and held it up for the man to see. He studied it for a moment before pointing out, “I already gave my statement.” He had an accent that Steve couldn’t place.

“I know that, sir,” Steve answered, putting his badge away. “But my questions are regarding the events leading up to the shooting.”

M’Baku glared at him and shut the door; as Steve was about to begin knocking again, he heard the chain move and the door opened again. M’Baku stepped aside to let him enter. The apartment was a single room with a sofa, a large television, a bed, and a small kitchen. The walls were full of tribal art that Steve would have loved to examine under other circumstances.

“Would you like something to drink?” M’Baku asked, though Steve knew it wasn’t a genuine offer.

“No, thank you,” he replied. “May I sit?” They each took a spot at opposite ends of the couch and Steve pulled out his notepad. “Mr. Jabari, you were the bouncer at the door of Le Bain the night of the shooting.”

“I’m always the door bouncer, except on my night off,” he clarified.

“Were you there when the club opened?”

“Yeah, I come on at nine,” he replied.

“Do you recognize this man?” Steve asked, pulling the shooter’s photo out and handing it over.

M’Baku swallowed. “He… looks familiar. This is a camera from the club. I recognize that spot.” He glanced around the photo. “The date stamp says it was that night.”

Steve wasn’t convinced by his supposed ignorance. “Had you seen him there before?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. “Do you have any idea how many people come into the club? Hundreds each night.”

“Yet you think he looks familiar,” Steve noted.

M’Baku frowned. “I don’t know. Perhaps he has been in before.”

“Do you know James Barnes?” Steve asked suddenly, then clenched his jaw in frustration at himself.

M’Baku stared Steve down for a long moment. “You are not here about the shooting.”

“Yes, I am,” he argued. “We have reason to believe that whomever Mr. Barnes was meeting was the shooter.”

M’Baku’s eyes widened and he rubbed his face. “Oh, my God. Bucky could have been killed.”

Steve fought down the desire to ask how he knew that name, to ask if M’Baku and Bucky were friends – or more. “I watched the security footage and I saw B- Mr. Barnes talk to you before he approached this man.” Steve showed the photo to him again. “You knew Mr. Barnes was going to meet him, right?”

M’Baku frowned. “I didn’t know. He asked me about any… attractive men. I pointed to the crowd.”

“You’re paid on the side, right?” Steve asked, ignoring M’Baku’s denials. “Where do you get the names from?” M’Baku’s breath quickened, visibly growing more nervous as Steve spoke. “I’m not going to bust you on that. I don’t care – I don’t care about Bucky’s work or where you get the money.” He pointed to the photo. “I just need _his_ name.”

There was a long, silent moment before M’Baku gulped. “All she told me was… his first name. Aldrich.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “She told me Bucky hadn’t met him before and she asked me to keep an eye on things.”

Steve’s brows knit together. “Who’s _she_?” M’Baku hesitated again and Steve added, “If she has more information on the shooter, I need to know it. That’s all.”

“She… she is called The Widow,” he answered after a moment. “She is Bucky’s… madam. She calls me to keep him safe.”

“Why you?” Steve asked, gritting his jaw against the desire to ask what M’Baku needed to protect Bucky from. _Is he in danger? Is someone after him?_

“Le Bain is where Bucky meets his clients for the first time,” M’Baku explained. “That is the… arrangement.”

Steve swallowed. “This Aldrich was a new client?”

“Yes, he…” M’Baku’s face contorted in a frown. “Something was off, she said. She was very worried.”

Steve felt like he was on the brink of something – something important. “Why?”

“He’d paid five times Bucky’s usual rate,” M’Baku said. “To convince her to cancel his normal client. He’d told her it _had_ to be that night.”

Steve swallowed hard. _Bucky hadn’t been there by accident. He figured into the plan somehow._

“This Widow,” Steve went on, “do you have a phone number for her?”

He shook his head. “No, she calls me at the club.”

Steve nodded and put his notepad away. “Thank you, Mr. Jabari. If you think of anything else, please contact me.” He pulled a business card out of his wallet and handed it over.

“I will,” M’Baku replied as they bother stood up. As Steve reached for the door, M’Baku called, “You said ‘Bucky.’”

Steve looked back. “What?”

“You called him ‘Bucky.’ Only his close friends know that name.”

Sighing, Steve nodded. “I… used to be.”

“But you want to keep him safe,” M’Baku confirmed and Steve nodded.

“Yes, I do. I’m not going to let anything happen to him if I’m able to stop it.”

M’Baku laughed, deep and jovial. “He won’t like that at all, you know?”

Steve chuckled. “I’m getting that impression.”

When he returned to the precinct, he felt something roiling in his chest – something angry. He stopped at the desk instead of heading for the stairs. The uniformed officer was a young, dark haired woman he’d only spoken to a handful of times. “Madani,” he began, “are Officers Ward or Cross on today?”

She frowned and Steve could see her jaw clench. Consider what he’d heard about them, he didn’t need to ask why. “Yeah,” she answered, “they’re on the beat.”

“Can you call ‘em and get their location for me?” He flashed her a conspiratorial smile.

“Sure,” She replied with a hint of a grin.

She used her radio and provided Steve with the address. “Ma’am,” he said, nodding his head to her.

When he finally parked on the street, he looked around to locate the patrol car. When he approached the driver’s side window, he knocked on the glass. “Yeah?” The bald officer said as he rolled it down.

Steve held up his badge and offered a disarming smile. “Can I buy you two a cup of coffee?”

They looked at one another before nodding and getting out of the car. They followed Steve to a diner across the street and they all sat down in an open booth. “So,” Ward said when the steaming mugs were set in front of them. “What can we do for you, Detective?”

“I’m investigating a murder,” he began. “One of the witnesses was a guy you two interviewed a few years ago. He reported a rape.”

Cross rolled his eyes. “You know how many of those calls we get?”

Steve grit his teeth but forced his voice to stay level. “Okay, then tell me about this report,” he said, handing the file over.

“This?” Ward blanched after reading a bit. “It was two years ago, what are you –?”

“Tell me what happened,” Steve demanded, his civility diminishing quickly.

Ward sighed. “This gay hooker cried rape when his Daddy got a little rough during some S&M play.”

Steve’s attention was fully piqued. “His… Daddy?”

“Yeah,” Cross sneered, looking at the file over Ward’s shoulder. “Hammer tied the kid up too tight, or some shit.”

Steve clenched his jaw to keep from gagging. “There was no rape?”

Ward shrugged. “The hooker didn’t get a rape kit done.”

Steve’s eye twitched. “You didn’t take him to the hospital?”

“Justin Hammer is a billionaire,” Cross defended. “You think he’d rape some _boy_ when he could get it for free?”

“Answer the questions,” Steve demanded. “Did you take him to the hospital?”

“No!” Ward exclaimed before looking around them. “Look, Detective, the kid got in over his head and didn’t like what his Daddy did to him.”

Steve inhaled. “Why do you keep saying ‘Daddy’?”

Ward glanced at Cross. “The kid… Hammer was some kinda Sugar Daddy, or something.”

Nodding, Cross added, “Hammer said – he said he was the hooker’s Daddy.”

Steve frowned. “For one night?”

Cross smirked. “Nah, a while, I guess. Hammer said it was the hooker’s idea. Some fantasy he wanted to play out.”

_Bucky wanted… a Daddy?_

Steve couldn’t explain how that made him feel – there was something in his chest that began to claw at him. He dropped cash on the table and left the diner without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you did not read the part with Ward and Cross, this is the gist of their discussion:  
Steve asks about the report but Ward and Cross blow it off.  
He demands to know if they took Bucky to the hospital for a rape kit but they admit they did not.  
They spew some disgusting rape apologies and victim blaming, but also inform Steve that Bucky's attacker was his Daddy at the time. It is clear that Justin Hammer was not a good Daddy.  
This knowledge will absolutely inform how Steve approaches Bucky later. <3  
Thank you so much for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gahhh I could not wait! *cries*   
Thank you to [umikochan](https://umikochannart.tumblr.com/) for the beautiful art in this chapter!

On Tuesday, Steve made his way to the Cyber Crimes division downtown. “Hey, Gabe,” he said as he approached his friend’s cubicle. “I brought you some coffee.”

After his… conversation with the officers on Monday, Steve had tried to focus all of his energy on the case. When he was alone at night, though, his thoughts returned to what Ward and Cross had told him.

_He was the hooker’s Daddy._

_Some fantasy the hooker wanted._

Gabe raised an eyebrow. “What do you want?” He drawled.

“Can’t a guy visit his old pal without an agenda?” Steve jokingly defended. Gabe grabbed the paper cup Steve offered and took a long drink. “Okay, fine,” Steve relented. “I need to find information on Red Room Escorts and who owns it.”

_I __need __to find this Widow and get answer__s_, he thought to himself.

Gabe chuckled. “Figured. Okay, come on, let’s see what we can find.”

Steve pulled a free chair toward Gabe’s small desk and sat down, watching his fingers glide across the keyboard. It was only a few minutes before Gabe sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

“These firewalls are good,” Gabe muttered. “These types of places,” he went on, “they make their staff’s privacy a top priority.”

“Why?” Steve asked.

“Stalkers, for one,” Gabe explained. Something was becoming clearer, though Steve couldn’t quite put his finger on it yet. “Also, their offices can become targets for threats.” Steve clenched his jaw. “I’ll keep trying, though,” Gabe promised.

“Thanks, man,” Steve said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Text me if you find anything.”

The following Wednesday, Steve and Maria entered the reception area of Pierce Investments at 5:30, and immediately approached the desk. “Can I help you?” A young woman asked them.

Maria was about to speak when a tall man with dark hair and eyes approached them. “You’re the detectives?” He asked.

Maria nodded. “Yes, Detectives Hill and Rogers. We’re here to speak with Mr. Pierce.”

“Right this way,” he said and began walking. “He doesn’t have much time.”

“We understand that he is very busy,” Maria agreed as they followed. “And you are?”

“Brock Rumlow, the head of security,” he explained in a bored tone.

They rounded a corner and went down a hallway made up of floor-to-ceiling windows on both sides. They could look out over Manhattan or over the staff, depending on which side they chose. At the end, Rumlow opened a door and led them into a large, open office with a desk and a seating area, partitioned by frosted glass. Through it, Steve could make out a figure approaching.

“Detectives,” a voice called just before a man appeared. He was tall and still had some red in his graying hair; his suit was silver with a matching vest. He smiled easily and too brightly, Steve thought. “I’m Alexander Pierce. Please,” he said, gesturing toward the brown leather seats.

“Mr. Pierce, we’ll make this quick,” Maria said as they sat down. “Does the name ‘Emil Blonsky’ mean anything to you?”

Pierce shook his head. “No, not that comes to mind. Should it?”

Before Maria could speak, Rumlow interrupted. “Sir, Blonsky was employed as a security officer here.”

“Oh?” Pierce replied and Steve caught a look of anger that disappeared as fast as it had come. “I don’t recall ever hearing that name.”

“His post here was brief, sir,” Rumlow assured.

“He was fired?” Maria asked.

“I didn’t say that,” Rumlow said. “It was mutual. He decided to seek new opportunities.”

_Fired_, Steve wrote in his notepad. “Can we have a copy of his personnel file?”

Rumlow fixed Steve with his dark gaze. “We don’t just give that information out.” He cocked his head. “Privacy laws,” he went on. “You understand.”

Steve sat back in the seat. “Mr. Pierce, do you recognize the name ‘James Barnes’?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maria shift uncomfortably but Pierce’s reaction was much more interesting. His mouth twitched and he even lifted his hand to cover it. “No,” he answered in a cool, even tone. “I can’t say that I do.”

“Sir,” Rumlow said, stepping closer. “You have another meeting.”

“Yes, of course,” Pierce replied, standing up.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Pierce,” Maria said as they both rose from the couch. “We appreciate it.”

“Good day, detectives,” he intoned, then turned and walked out of the office.

Rumlow waited for Steve and Maria to exit before he closed the doors and led them back to the lobby. “What the hell was that, Steve?” Maria hissed as they stepped onto the elevator.

“Did you see his reaction?” He asked, quietly. “When I mentioned Barnes.”

“He definitely knows him but he could be a _client_, Steve,” she argued.

Shaking his head, Steve said, “No, he was _angry_, Maria.”

“He was definitely pissed when Rumlow confirmed that Blonsky worked here.”

Steve nodded. “I saw that.” He checked his watch. “I’ll see you at the station tomorrow.”

“Where are you going?” She asked.

He glanced at her before the elevator doors opened. “There’s something I need to look into.”

He still had Bucky’s address memorized but the trip took far too long in the evening traffic. By the time he arrived at Bucky’s building, Steve worried he’d be long gone. He buzzed the apartment and waited for a moment, then buzzed again.

Steve checked his watch. It was after six which meant that Bucky might be working already, but he slammed the button again and again.

“_What the fuck, man_?” A voice blared over the speaker.

“Bucky?” Steve asked.

There was a long pause before the voice answered. “_Go away, Steve_.”

“No,” Steve snapped. “Let me in. Please.”

Another silent moment stretched on and Steve began to worry that Bucky really wouldn’t open the door. That was, until he heard the lock click and rushed inside, as if Bucky might change his mind any second.

He took the stairs two at a time up to the fourth floor. He was sweating and winded by the time he was standing before Bucky’s apartment but he didn’t care. As he raised his hand to knock, the door opened and Bucky stared at him with wide, unsure eyes. It was so different from his cocky, self-assured expression from the other day; so different from the furious way he’d looked at Steve before he left the garden.

Opening the door all the way, Bucky blocked Steve’s entrance with his body. The white shirt he wore was practically non-existent; his jeans looked like they’d been painted on and his hair hung down in soft waves. Through the thin fabric of Bucky’s v-neck, Steve could tell that one of his nipples was pierced and he had at least two tattoos.

Steve had noticed all of that the other night but he’d been focused on the interview, on the work. At that moment, though, he had nothing to focus on but _Bucky_.

“Why are you here?” Bucky demanded.

Steve glanced over Bucky’s shoulder, wondering if he was alone. “Can I come in?”

After a moment of hesitation, Bucky nodded. “Sure.” He stepped aside and waited while Steve crossed the threshold before adding, “Always happy to be of service to the NYPD.”

Steve turned on him, brows drawn together in a deep frown. “That’s not what this is.”

The anxious expression that had been on Bucky’s face was gone, replaced by something Steve couldn’t define. He looked as though he were trying to be sexy but there was too much… anger.

“It’s not?” Bucky asked, reaching up and putting his hands on Steve’s chest. The heat of them burned Steve’s skin and all of the thoughts he’d been able to ignore slammed into him.

“No,” Steve said in a voice far too breathy to be sincere. He cleared his throat and tried again. “No, Buck, it’s not.”

Bucky stepped forward, pushing Steve backward until he was flat against the wall, though he didn’t stop moving until their bodies were flush. Every inch of Steve’s being lit up until he thought he might explode. Bucky’s mouth was pressed against his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

He _remembered_ how those lips felt against his; he remembered the way Bucky had tasted. At the time, all those years ago, Steve had jerked away in shock and, the next day, Bucky was gone. He never got to _explain_.

_Maybe tonight_, he thought, _I can_.

“You can fuck me if you want,” Bucky whispered. Steve went cold even as Bucky’s hot breath blew across his skin. “That’s why you’re here, right?”

A knot of anger bloomed in Steve’s gut – _he _had done this.

He knew now that he wanted Bucky. If he was being honest with himself, he _craved_ Bucky’s touch and his body – but not like this. He had never wanted it to be like this. He’d never wanted that vacant look in Bucky’s eyes, the one he probably wore with his clients; he’d never wanted the hollow touches or the cheap seduction.

He just wanted Bucky.

But right then, with Bucky’s body pressed to his and Bucky’s hands on his chest, Steve felt raw and exposed. Like a nerve. He felt _ashamed_.

He couldn’t let this go on. With shaking hands, he pushed Bucky away, taking deep breaths through his nose. When their eyes met, Steve felt as if he’d been punched in the gut – Bucky’s smile was sad, resigned, as if he’d expected this.

All of this.

But Steve couldn’t do anything about that now – he couldn’t make Bucky forget all that had happened between them. All he could do was try to make things better.

“I’m here because you’re in danger.”

Bucky’s eyes dropped to the floor as he pulled away. “Sure.”

Steve followed behind him. “This is _serious_.”

“Is this some sort of intervention?” His back was to Steve but he could _hear_ the condescending smirk in Bucky’s voice. “My _prostitution_ has affected you in the following ways?”

“Damn it, Buck,” Steve shouted, suddenly furious. He grabbed Bucky’s arm and spun him around. “The people behind this, they’re fucking _dangerous_!”

His mouth curved into a smile that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “Fuck you, Steve,” he snarled. “Why would you want to protect me? I’m just a _whore_, right? Just a fucked up slut?”

Steve winced and shook his head. “God, Bucky, _no_, I don’t think that. I should never have said those things. I want to… keep you safe.” He smiled, trying to show Bucky every ounce of affection he had inside him. “Let me take care of you, like you used to take care of me.”

For a moment, Bucky’s eyes widened and he swayed in Steve’s hold. But then, something passed over his face and he yanked his arm out of Steve’s grip. “Who do you think you are? My _daddy?_”

Something about the petulance in Bucky’s voice and the _word_ he’d used had warmth spreading through Steve’s chest. He felt himself standing taller; his eyes widened and his pupils no doubt dilated. Looming over Bucky and walking forward, he forced Bucky to step backward until he was cornered.

Bucky watched it all happen, shock registering on his face.

“That what you want, Buck?” Steve asked in a gravelly voice and reached up, gently brushing his fingers along the stubble on Bucky’s jaw. “You want a _Daddy_?”

Bucky gulped, his Adams apple bobbing up and down. His mouth opened but he didn’t speak right away; instead, his lips twitched as if he were trying to say something but couldn’t. Finally, he lifted both hands and delivered a hard shove to Steve’s chest, pushing him backward and keeping him away.

“Steve,” he whispered, “get the fuck out.”

His eyes were wide and wet; his voice broke on the demand but Steve knew that Bucky was serious. His heart ached, knowing that he was the cause. Nodding his head, he raised both of his hands. “Okay,” he said, taking clear and deliberate steps toward the door. “I’ll go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve seriously needs some help here. TT-TT


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's been a minute. :) This chapter is a new addition which is why it took so long but I felt something was missing.  
I'm introducing a new character as well as some info about Steve's past.

Steve stormed into his apartment, slamming the door behind him. Opening the refrigerator, he pulled out a beer and used the counter to pop the cap off before making his way into the living room. He yanked his suit jacket off and threw it into his lounge chair, fighting the tears of shame threatening to spill.

_Why did I push so hard_? He berated himself, dropping onto his sofa.

He took a long pull from his beer and rubbed his forehead. In his mind, he thought over what he knew about Bucky and his life; he tried to understand what kind of Daddy Bucky would want. The only other attempt Steve knew of had ended in violence and degradation. The photos in the file showed a younger, thinner Bucky, without the hard edges Steve could see now.

However, after the event occurred, it made sense that Bucky would want to know that the person he became involved with truly _would_ take care of him.

That meant that Steve would need to _prove_ that was all he wanted.

He’d always stood up for people and looked out for them, but it wasn’t until he’d become an adult that the need to protect evolved into a desire to care for. It was much later that he’d learned of Daddy kink, though his girlfriend at the time had expressed disdain for it entirely.

He finished the last of his beer and dropped the bottle into his recycling before making his way to the bathroom for a shower. The hot water helped to relax his muscles but his mind was far from easy. The way that Bucky had looked at him was burned into his head – how confused and hurt he’d felt, yet so hopeful.

It was that hope that allowed Steve to have faith.

Scrubbing shampoo through his hair, Steve remembered every moment of their interaction. He played through each piece, one by one, and could clearly see where he’d gone wrong.

He’d backed Bucky into a corner and watched him shut down.

Steve should have _known _better. Being a Daddy wasn’t about forcing his desires onto his partner – it was all about supporting and encouraging that person. For Steve, it was meant to be about taking care of Bucky – about offering him what Steve could give.

He turned the shower off and stepped out, using his towel to dry himself. Once he’d dressed in his sweatpants, he grabbed another beer and returned to his couch. He couldn’t focus on anything that was on TV and an urge he had long forgotten began to grow inside him.

Setting the bottle on the coffee table, Steve walked to the closet nearest his front door. On the top shelf, he found the box he sought and pulled it down. Carrying it back to the living room, Steve opened it, picking up his spiral sketchbook and charcoal pencils.

Ever since Bucky’d mentioned Steve’s art, Steve had repeatedly returned to the closet but he hadn’t touched these items in… years.

He drew one knee up onto the couch and settled the pad against it, bringing the charcoal to the paper lightly. The lines started out cautious and controlled, as if Steve had an image in mind to sketch. It was only a short time later that he realized that was not the case.

From the soft etching on the page, a face began to appear – one he recognized. The strong jawline, the cleft chin, the nose, and those eyes could only belong to one man.

The smile, though, was not the smile that Bucky used to give him – the warm, brilliant grin he flashed when he was about to show off. No, _this_ smile was guarded and wary, but that somehow made it more beautiful.

Although he wasn’t the same boy Steve had known growing up, he was still Bucky.

Steve spent a long time on Bucky’s hair – the length and shine, the way it fell around his shoulders. It was merely his head and the tops of his shoulders but, when he finished, he was staring at a gorgeous mix of his friend and the man he was learning about.

Both, he knew he wanted to treasure.

After a few more moments, Steve turned the page to a new clean one and began again. This time, he allowed his mind and hand to wander, drawing the lines of Bucky’s chest beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. He had seen Bucky’s tattoos in the photos on Red Room’s website, as well as the small glimpses he’d gotten in person, though he couldn’t get the details quite right.

The hard lines of Bucky’s shoulders and collarbone, his neck, the look in his eyes, and the way he bit his lip – it all spoke of _desire_. Steve wanted to believe it was for him, that it _could _be for him.

He knew his face was pinched as it usually was when he was focused on sketching. With his clean hand, he rubbed his forehead and slicked his wet hair back. He ignored the way he dampened the pad when he held it again, much too focused on the emerging image.

Once that one was finished, he turned the page again and grabbed a new charcoal pencil. As the lines began to form a picture, Steve realized that Bucky was naked, staring up at him from a bed. _Like my fantasy_, Steve thought but even as his blush rose and his breathing accelerated, he couldn’t stop drawing.

He shaded in the indentations of Bucky’s hipbones and his collarbone, and then focused on Bucky’s face. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth and his head was tilted back. The eyes looking back at him were electric and Steve recognized the look. He’d seen it briefly when he’d touched Bucky, asked him the question he’d desperately wanted to hear the answer to.

_Do you want a Daddy?_

At that moment, the charcoal pencil snapped in Steve’s hand.

He sighed, staring down at the small scrape it had made in the paper. It wasn’t enough to have ruined the sketch but would need to be fixed. When he was about to grab another one, his phone began vibrating on the table. He checked the ID and grumbled to himself as he answered it. “What is it, Tony?”

“_Whoa_,” Tony said. “_Why are you out of breath? Are you not alone_?”

Steve sighed.“Yes, Tony, I am alone.”

“_Letting off some steam on your own then_,” Tony surmised but before Steve could argue, he went on. “_Too bad. You know, Rogers, you could easily have someone to help with that_.”

“Easily, huh?” Steve scoffed.

Tony didn’t respond to that. “_So… you doing okay_?”

Steve frowned. “Yeah. Why?”

“_Hadn’t heard from you. I got worried_.” There was a moment of silence before Tony observed, “_You don’t know why I’m calling_.”

“No, I – did I forget we had plans?” Steve asked, trying to remember the last time they’d spoken.

“_No_,” Tony sighed. “_Check the date, Steve_.”

Steve furrowed his brows but looked at his cell phone screen. “Oh,” he murmured, bringing it back to his ear. “It’s the fifteenth.”

“_Yeah_,” Tony said. “_You remember now_?”

Steve swallowed. “Yeah, my… my wedding day.”

“_Well, it would’ve been,_” Tony corrected. “_If, you know_…”

“Yeah…” Steve replied. “Yeah, _if_.”

“_So, what’s the deal, C__ap_?” Tony asked but Steve interjected.

“Don’t call me that.”

Tony simply ignored this and went on. “_This time, last year, you were shit-faced in my bathroom. The year before, you were swearing off dating and_ –”

“I remember, Tony,” Steve asserted.

“_It’s just that, you know… __something must be distracting you pretty well_.”

Steve sighed. “I… suppose so.”

“_Oh, give it up already_,” Tony demanded. “_What’s her name_?”

“Tony, it’s not –”

“_It’s not a woman_!” Tony interrupted. “W_hat’s his name? Is he better than – than – fuck, what was that guy’s name? Um… shit_ –”

“Dino,” Steve provided.

“_Yes! You thought he looked like Dean Martin_.”

“Tony, this isn’t like that.” Steve stretched his neck, grimacing at the tension in his shoulders. “This is… totally different.”

“_I hope so_,” Tony joked. “_That guy was a douche_.”

Steve laughed out loud. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah, he was.”

“_So, tell me about this one_,” Tony suggested.

Steve sighed and sat back. “It’s… complicated.”

“_Oh, _whatever,” Tony grumbled. “_Just say it. He’s a drug dealer, right? __Got a rap sheet longer than my_ –”

“_Okay_, Tony,” Steve interrupted, chuckling.

“_I’m shocked at you, Steven_,” Tony exclaimed. “_I was going to say, longer than my list of accomplishments_.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. “I’m sure, Tony. You’ve always been a beacon of propriety.”

“_Wouldn’t go that far,_” Tony insisted. “_But I’d like to know if this guy is good enough for you._”

Sighing, Steve rubbed his forehead. “It might be _me_ who’s not good enough for him.”

“_Bullshit_.”

“No, I mean it, Tony,” he defended. “I keep fucking up.”

“_How_?” Tony asked.

“It’s…”

“_Complicated_?”

“Yeah,” Steve answered.

“_Steve, seriously,_” Tony said, “_just tell me. You embarrassed or something? You remember my bachelor party_?”

“Trying to forget.”

“_We’ve been friends for a long time. I’m _not_ one to judge_.”

Steve sighed. “Alright,” he agreed. “Before we met, I knew this kid. Bucky.”

“_Bucky? Good name. Like it. Continue_.”

Steve shook his head. “He was my best friend. The night before his family moved to Indiana, he, uh, he kissed me.”

“_Whoa_,” Tony said. “_That was before your, uh, sexual awakening, so to speak_?”

“Yeah,” Steve answered. “And I panicked.”

“_I can imagine what that looked like_,” Tony replied. “_Pushed him away, right?_”

“Well… yeah.” Steve cleared his throat.

“_So, he’s back in town and you’re looking to give that kiss another try_?”

“S-sort of,” Steve answered. “He’s a witness. On my case.”

Tony was a silent for a long moment before he asked, “_Isn’t that, like, a faux pas_?”

Steve swallowed. “A big one.”

“_Hmm_.” Tony took another minute to think before he said, “_You never were one for rules. So, what? This case won’t last forever_.”

“He’s also, uh, a… an escort.”

Tony took a deep breath – Steve could hear it clearly. “_Seriously, Steve_,” he pleaded, “_lead with that next time, huh_?”

“See why it’s complicated?”

“_Yeah, I see why you wanting to date a prostitute is complicated, Steve_.”

“Escort,” Steve emphasized.

“_Does he have sex with people for money_?” Steve didn’t answer and Tony went on, “_Yeah, _prostitute.”

“Fine, fine,” Steve conceded.

“_Alright_,” Tony said, satisfied. “_Go on_.”

“Thank you,” Steve grumbled. “So, that’s one… part.”

“_There’s more? Okay, alright, give it to me. I’m ready_.”

Steve chuckled. “You sure?”

“_Yep, I’m here for you, buddy_.”

“Okay, um.” Steve took a deep breath. “Do you know what… Daddies are?”

He could practically _hear_ Tony blinking on the other end of the all. “_Daddies_.”

“Yeah.”

“_As in… not as in, like, having kids_,” he surmised.

“No, not like that.”

“_Like… Daddy, give it to me_?”

Steve released a shocked laugh. “More like that, yes.”

There was another moment of silence before Tony exclaimed, “You’re_ a Daddy, Rogers? You’ve been hiding this from me for more than a decade_?” He almost sounded impressed.

“Tony, our sexual predilections never really came up.”

“_That has never stopped me from sharing_,” Tony defended.

“Also, that was never my idea.”

“_Fair point_.” Tony seemed to steel himself for his question. “_So, what does… being a Daddy… entail_?”

Steve shrugged, though Tony couldn’t see it. “It’s… not always totally sexual. Um, it can be about… taking care of – of –”

“_The _boy?” Tony supplied.

“Um,” Steve said, “yes. But that can… look like… anything. Sometimes, it involves money but doesn’t have to.”

“_Like a sugar baby situation_?”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed.

“_But you live on a pathetic salary and your boy is probably fairly wealthy. Unless he intends to quit the biz_.” Steve blinked. He hadn’t even considered that Bucky wouldn’t continue working. “_But that’s a whole other thing_.”

Steve cleared his throat. “Daddies are kind of like Doms but the assertion of control is different. I want to take care of him and protect him.”

“_Quick question_,” Tony interjected. “_Is he even interested in this? What you’re… offering_?”

Steve took a deep breath. “I think so. But I didn’t… offer it… well.”

“_Oh, man_,” Tony sighed. “_You just charged right in_?”

“Um,” Steve murmured, “yeah. Something like that.”

“_So, he didn’t respond well because he… needs a more, um, caring and sensitive approach_?”

“Yeah,” Steve answered. “I messed up.”

“_I can see that._” Tony took a deep breath, clearly thinking this over. “_Okay, I think you need to __try __again__, but you _need _to __stop thinking about what _you_ want and start thinking about what he needs._”

Steve nodded his head. “Yeah, yeah, absolutely.”

“_You can fix it, Steve,_” Tony assured. “_You’re a good guy. You’ve always been a good guy. __He’ll see that._”

“I hope you’re right,” Steve said. “I really do.”

“_Steve,_” Tony admonished, “_have I ever been wrong_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think?  
I have to admit, I've never been confident about writing Tony Stark. He has a way of speaking and mannerisms that are difficult to replicate.


	9. Chapter 9

The club was dimly lit with blue and green lights while the music blared loud enough that Bucky could feel the bass in his bones. This was where one of his regulars, Clint, liked to meet. It was all about the fantasy – they were strangers who met, danced, and fucked in the bathroom.

After what had happened with Steve, Bucky could use something… familiar. Routine.

_Do you want a Daddy_?

The question repeated in his mind, louder than the music.

Bucky clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. Clint liked to approach Bucky first, so he waited by the bar, sipping his Jack and Coke – extra Coke. He’d eaten a decent meal beforehand to ensure any drinks he had wouldn’t go to his head too quickly.

His white button-down was thin and translucent while his blue jeans hung low on his hips. Clint liked when Bucky wore his hair down, so it cascaded over his shoulders. There were eyes on him from all around – both men and women.

It wasn’t long until Bucky caught sight of Clint and he turned back to the bar, immediately. It was a moment before he felt a presence next to him and turned, but it wasn’t Clint.

“Barnes,” Rumlow grunted. “The boss wants to see you.”

Bucky frowned. “I’m busy.”

“Not anymore,” Rumlow retorted, holding his arm out.

Over Rumlow’s shoulder, Bucky saw Clint look confused, then turn away. _Fuck_. Bucky clenched his teeth and growled, “I’m booked.”

“It’s just business.” Rumlow’s dark eyes pinned him. “He’ll make it worth your while.”

Rumlow looked at Bucky with his usual sickening desire and Bucky groaned as he followed behind. They crossed the dance floor and entered the VIP area where Alexander Pierce sat on a long, plush sofa. The room was lit up more than the rest of the club and the music was much quieter in there.

“James,” Pierce greeted, patting the seat beside him. “Come here. Spend some time with me.” He unbuttoned his black suit jacket and leaned back. “I’d understand if you’re feeling… more vulnerable.” Bucky frowned in confusion. “Maybe you need someone… with a little power to keep you safe,” Pierce declared. “Especially after you watched that informant get shot.”

Bucky watched Pierce’s eyes widen for a moment, as if he hadn’t meant to say that.

_Informant_? Bucky wondered. He took a steadying breath. “I’m with someone.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Pierce assured. “Rumlow will get rid of him.” He snapped his fingers and Rumlow walked away.

“No, don’t –” Bucky tried but Rumlow was already gone. “_Great_,” he scoffed, rubbing his forehead.

“Is it a client?” Pierce asked and leaned forward, grabbing the bottle of champagne he had chilling in a bucket. “Drink?” He offered as he poured two glasses.

“I’m fine,” Bucky answered, shaking his head. “I really need to get back out there.”

“I’ll pay double what I lost you,” Pierce said, taking a sip from the flute. “Triple if we can get started right now.”

Bucky glanced up, finding Rollins in the corner. “I don’t do voyeurism and I have a date tonight.”

Bucky turned to leave but Pierce called, “I’ll quadruple it. Whatever your rate is, I’ll pay.” Bucky paused and spun around, though not out of _interest_. Pierce patted the seat next to him again. “Come over here, James. I think you’ll find I’m a man with a lot to offer.”

Bucky’s stomach turned queasily. “Mr. Pierce, I’m… flattered but I’m booked. My schedule is full right now.” Pierce’s face darkened as Bucky spoke. “I really need to get out there to find my date and apologize.”

Bucky took two steps toward the door when Pierce spoke again. “I suggest you reconsider, James. You know what happens to people who _displease_ me.”

A chill ran down Bucky’s spine. _Especially after you watched that informant get shot._

Bucky ran out of the VIP room and didn’t look back. He didn’t stop until his feet hit concrete and then he rushed the curb, waving his hands hysterically until a cab pulled up. “Where you headin’?” The driver asked.

“The Heights,” he barked, slamming the door.

When he looked up, his heart stopped dead because Rumlow was there, watching him. Bucky continued to stare as the taxi pulled away from the curb until the doorway was completely obstructed from view.

After a few moments of panicked breathing, Bucky gave the driver Natasha’s address, then sat back.

He knew he was in trouble – a lot of trouble. Pierce had approached him twice in just a few days, becoming more and more aggressive. Tonight, he’d lost Bucky a date – maybe even a client if Clint was angry enough, but Bucky hardly cared about that.

Scrubbing his face with both hands, he tried to think of ways to keep himself safe. Pierce had people everywhere; he owned cops and lawyers; and, if the rumors were true, he owned _people_.

_But he doesn’t own Steve_, Bucky’s brain supplied unhelpfully.

Sighing, Bucky looked out the window as the taxi slowed at a red light. On the sidewalk, he stared at a couple – two men; one with dark hair, one blond. The blond man was tall and wide but he held the brunette’s face in his hands with tenderness.

Something about the scene made Bucky’s heart ache.

Bucky rarely spent a night on his own but no one touched him with that gentleness – that affection. No one took care of him. Touching his jaw, he remembered how Steve’s fingers had felt, how softly they’d brushed his skin.

_You want a Daddy_?

Bucky’s hands gripped the leather upholstery until it whined under the strain and he licked his lips.

“Here we are,” the driver announced, yanking Bucky back to the present.

“Uh, thank you,” he said, passing cash through the partition and jumping out of the cab.

He ran up the stairs and banged on Nat’s door over and over without stopping until she finally opened it.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, grabbing him and pulling him inside.

He scrubbed his face with both hands, feeling the sweat on his forehead. “I – I’m in trouble, Nat.”

“What happened?” She led him into her spacious living room and sat him on the plush sofa. Before she sat down, she went to her small bar and poured two drinks, handing one to him. “Start from the beginning.”

He nodded and took a large gulp. “I was at the club to see Clint – oh, _shit_, we gotta refund his money!”

“I don’t care about that,” she interrupted, reaching up to pull her bright red hair into a bun.

Meeting her eyes, he tried to discern if she was being truthful, then he took a shaky breath and continued. “Okay, uh, I was there to meet him but R-Rumlow approached me and said – he said Pierce wanted to see me.” Nat’s full lips pressed into a thin line but she didn’t speak. “I tried to tell him I was busy, I was booked, but he didn’t care. So I went with him to the VIP area.”

“What did they do to you?” She demanded and her voice took on a fiercely defensive tone.

“N-nothing but Pierce offered me…”

“Offered what?” Natasha demanded.

“He offered me… protection, I think? And _a lot _of money.”

“To do what?”

“To spend time with him,” he answered, feeling tears begin to prick his eyes. “I told him I was booked but he – he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He kept offering more money.” He ran his hands through his hair. “When I went to leave, he said that I should reconsider. He said I know what happens to people who don’t please him.”

Her eyes went wide and Bucky saw fear where he’d never expected to see it. “Shit,” she replied in a whisper. When she lifted the glass to her lips, her hand shook and it terrified Bucky to see how affected she was. “James, I have to tell you something.”

He wiped his eyes and finished his drink. “It’s bad, right?”

She didn’t answer right away and, instead, stood up to grab the bottle off of the bar. It spilled a little as she refilled their glasses but she didn’t seem aware of it.

“Pierce has been… he’s been trying to… well, _buy_ you for a few months.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed. “Buy me?”

She nodded. “He wants to buy your contract away from me. He wants to be your… your _master_.”

Bucky couldn’t conceal the shock on his face. “I’d _never_ agree to be his Sub –”

She laughed humorlessly. “No, James,” she said and took another big drink. “He doesn’t care if you enjoy it or not. He wants a _slave_.”

With trembling hands, Bucky pulled his hair into a knot on top of his head and tried to focus on his breathing. “It’s all true? He – he _owns_ people?”

Nodding, Natasha said, “Yeah, it’s true.” She took a smaller sip before setting the glass on her coffee table. “You remember Angie?”

Bucky nodded. “She, uh, she got a job as a waitress, right? Went straight?”

Natasha shook her head before quickly downing the remainder of her drink. “He bought her contract.” Bucky suddenly felt sick and he could see where this story was going. “I – I thought he wanted a sugar baby. I thought he’d take care of her.”

For the first time in the entirety of their acquaintance, Bucky saw tears form in Natasha’s eyes. He knew the answer before he asked the question, but he _had_ to hear it from her. “Is she… okay?”

Natasha shook her head, lifting her hand to cover the tremor in her lip. “Her body… was found in a dumpster.”

“Oh, my god,” Bucky murmured, trying to determine if he was nauseated or not.

“I couldn’t say anything,” she added in a quiet voice. “But I’ve never booked with him again.”

Bucky looked at her. “You’re trying to protect me.”

She nodded, vacantly. “It’s obviously not working. He’s only becoming more… obsessed.”

“Nat,” he said, touching her cheek to turn her face toward him. “What do I do?”

Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t know. But you need to keep yourself safe, okay? Because he’s _dangerous_.”

In a moment of insanity, Bucky chuckled as he remembered that Steve had said the same thing a few hours before.

“What?” She asked, startled by his reaction.

“Oh, nothing,” he said. “A cop said the same thing to me not too long ago.”

“A _cop_?” She accused. “You talked to the cops about him?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, of course not.” He sighed and finished his drink. “Steve – Steve Rogers. I grew up with him and he was the detective that questioned me after…” His voice died out as he remembered what he’d surmised earlier. “I think the shooting… I think Pierce is behind it.”

“What?” She asked. “You’re sure?”

“The guy that got shot,” Bucky began, “Pierce called him an informant.”

“He told you that before?”

“No,” Bucky affirmed. “He said it tonight. But Steve, he… I think he knows.”

Natasha watched Bucky’s face for a long moment before she asked, “Do you trust him?”

Bucky hesitated for a minute, thinking over that question. It was more complicated than that, right? But then Bucky remembered that Steve had come to him, felt _concerned_ for him, and tried to warn him.

_Let me take care of you_.

“Yeah,” he answered. “I do.”

Nodding, she said, “Give me his precinct number.”

“Why?”

“I’ll set it up.” She pulled her cell phone out of the pocket of her robe. “Go home and continue as normal until you hear from me.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long. I wanted to add a little more information in here but then I had writer's block, but I'm better now :D (let's hope)  
I have the next few chapters done and just need to work on the rest, so hopefully there won't be any more significant delays. :)

Steve was drawn out of a fitful sleep by the sound of his phone vibrating. He sat up and looked at the digital clock by his bed as he answered the call. “This is Rogers,” he announced in a less than happy voice.

“_Rogers_,” Fury said, “_we got a body_.”

“Where?” Steve asked, rubbing his eyes.

“_Night club in Brooklyn. Just around the corner from you_.”

“But I’m already on a case,” Steve argued but Fury interrupted him.

“_You’ll need to see this_.” Fury hesitated for a moment before finally continuing. “_They said it could be the witness from the shooting_.”

“What?” Steve’s heart skipped a beat. “The witness?”

“_The e__scort__ you interview__ed__ with Hill. Uh, Barnes_,” Fury added.

Steve hardly responded, “Oh,” before he hung up and dialed Bucky’s number.

When it went straight to voicemail, he ended the call and redialed, but there was still no answer. He jumped out of his bed and ran to the closet, digging a pair of khakis and a button-up out and dressing in a rush.

It was just after four in the morning but there was still enough traffic on the streets that the trip took almost twenty minutes. Steve connected his phone to his car’s bluetooth and kept redialing Bucky’s number. With each repeat of Bucky’s voicemail message, Steve’s chest constricted further.

When the flashing lights came into view, he felt sick to his stomach but he parked and got out. He knew Hill was talking to him, could see her lips moving, but he couldn’t hear a word she said. The blood rushed in his ears as he pushed his way through uniformed officers and crime scene technicians until, finally, he saw the body.

He was face-down on the ground, lying in filth; his clothes were torn and disheveled, almost as if he’d dressed in a hurry. _I failed him, _Steve thought as he approached, shaking off a hand on his shoulder as he went. _I failed him_. When he was near enough to get a good look, he dropped to his knee and brushed the long, loose hair aside.

“Oh, my God,” he gasped, leaning away.

All at once, the noise around him filtered in and he finally heard Hill speaking. “… not him. The vic’s name is Billy Russo, not that the poor kid looks anything like his ID now.”

The face was cut and beaten but Steve could see specific details that confirmed it wasn’t Bucky. “What’s the cause of death?”

“We’ll have to wait for the medical examiner to get a confirmation, but there’s obvious blunt force trauma.” Hill took a deep breath before she added, “A lot of it.”

“The killer was angry,” Steve commented. “What do we know about Billy Russo?”

Maria looked at her notepad. “He’s got arrests for solicitation, so he’s probably a pro.”

Sighing Steve stood up and said, “I’m gonna go get coffee. I’ll meet you at the ME.”

“Get me a big one,” she called and Steve nodded his head.

His every move felt sluggish, as if he were in a thick fog and trying to find his way. For a moment – a horrible moment – Bucky had been dead and Steve hadn’t been able to save him. For that moment, Steve felt a sharp agony in his chest; it felt like the asthma attacks he’d had as a kid.

Once he’d learned that Bucky was still alive, though, all he wanted to do was see him, to feel that he was safe.

Less than an hour later, Steve followed Maria into the cold room, facing the autopsy table. The doctor nodded to them as he entered from another door. “I can only give you a preliminary report.”

“That’s fine, Dr. Strange,” Maria replied. “What can you tell us?”

“Well,” Strange began, “cause of death appears to be blood loss from a gunshot wound. Here,” he gestured to the chest and Steve could clearly see it.

“So, the beating?” She asked.

“Antemortem,” Strange explained. “There are restraint markings on the wrists.”

“Um,” Steve cleared his throat, “was he raped?” His voice broke on the word and he could see Maria glance at him out of the corner of his eye.

Strange nodded. “Repeatedly, and there are traces of semen around his mouth.”

Steve’s stomach turned but he tried to keep his face blank. “Enough for a match?”

“I can’t say for sure at this point.” He walked to the sink to begin washing up. “I’ll text you with any developments.”

“Thanks, Strange,” Maria said and turned to leave.

Steve hesitated, staring at the body for a long moment. He could still remember the way he’d felt at the thought that this was Bucky. For a flash, he _did_ see Bucky’s body there, lying cold and dead on the table. He released a shaky breath and took a step back when Strange spoke up.

“Detective? Is something wrong?”

Steve looked over and found Strange’s eyes intent on him. “No – no. Nothing. Thanks, Strange.”

“Detective,” Strange called and Steve paused. “If I may?” Steve nodded his head. “I, uh, I see the way you’re looking at him. I’ve seen that look on my own face.” He turned away and began pulling his gloves on. “I knew someone – a woman. She was very… important to me. One might say that she _saved_ me.”

Steve swallowed but didn’t interrupt. This was the most he’d ever heard Dr. Strange say and there was something about his story that made Steve stand still.

“We weren’t lovers by any means. She was… very religious. She lived her life in a monastery but would go out once or twice a week. One day, she was returning from the store when she was mugged.” The firm set to Strange’s shoulders made it clear to Steve that this story would not end well. “She had nothing to give but he shot her anyway.”

Steve grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not telling you this for pity.” Strange shook his head, meeting Steve’s eyes. “I’m saying that the person_ you_ see on this table could live in the safest place and still experience violence.” Steve blinked, starting to realize where Strange was going. “You, yourself, live a very high-risk lifestyle. I don’t imagine this person would ask you to change what you do. Right?”

Steve swallowed and nodded. “I don’t think he would.”

“So,” Strange continued, “perhaps you will have to find a way to protect him while also respecting the dignity of his choices.”

Strange’s words hit Steve in the chest and exhaled sharply. He didn’t reply before turning and rushing out of the morgue, heading directly for the stairs. He spent that day processing paperwork for William Russo and contacting his next of kin. That was one of the hardest parts about his job and it followed him like a cloud, hanging over him even into his sleep that night. There was another weight, though, pulling at his shoulders – _Bucky_.

In his dreams, it _was_ Bucky in that alley, lying in garbage and filth. His cold, dead eyes stared accusingly at Steve, reminding him he could have done more.

When he woke to his alarm at five, he was covered in sweat and his muscles felt tense. He rolled over, staring wide-eyed at his ceiling, unable to get the images out of his head. He tried to summon the desire to move though there was very little of it.

He did eventually get up and pull his jogging clothes on, rushing to meet Sam by 5:30. As Steve was approaching, he grinned and picked up his pace. “On your left,” he said as he past by.

Sam chuckled and took off after him. “About time, gramps!”

Steve grinned and ran faster, calling back, “Less talking, more running, kid!”

The banter felt normal but Steve’s mind remained uneasy. The morning air was cool but he could feel the sun heating everything up quickly and knew it would easily be in the nineties by early afternoon.

They chatted easily as they went, though Steve kept it to easy topics. “How’s Wanda?”

“She’s good,” Sam panted. “Sent me out at midnight last night for peanut butter gelato.”

Steve glanced at him and found that was smiling. “You seem really happy, though.”

“I am, man,” Sam confirmed. “What about you? How are you doing?”

Steve shrugged. “The other night was… a shock. But I’m okay.”

Sam nodded, though he didn’t answer. He did his best to keep up but Steve had always been faster and had far more stamina. It was clear the moment that Sam was tiring out as he slowed to a brisk jog, then began walking.

“I’m done, man,” he called, lifting his t-shirt to wipe sweat off his face. “I’ll see you at work.”

Steve waved but didn’t reply. Once he was alone, there was nothing to keep his mind occupied, and it returned to the body in the alley. The hair and build were so similar to Bucky’s, it couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?

Not if Bucky was a witness to a hit and Pierce wanted him dead, but that had to mean that Bucky _knew_ something. Why had the killer pressed so hard to get Bucky there that night? How did he fit in?

Was he merely meant to witness the crime or was he meant to be another victim of it? The killer had ample opportunities to shoot him too, though, which suggested he was only meant to _see_ it. But why? To scare him? To threaten him?

There were too many pieces that didn’t fit and Steve didn’t have any evidence for the theories he was devising. If Pierce was involved, Steve had nothing to link him to it. If he wasn’t involved, why had he lied about the victim? Why had he reacted so dramatically when Steve mentioned Bucky to him?

Maria couldn’t be right, that he was Bucky’s client… though Steve had no way to know that either. He grit his teeth as he sprinted the final mile back to his apartment. He showered and changed into a white button-up and some slacks before hurrying to the precinct. As he ascended to the first floor, his phone rang in his pocket and he dug for it.

“Rogers,” he answered.

“_Detective Rogers_,” a woman began. “_I’__m called the Widow_.” Suddenly, his focus sharpened. “_We have a mutual friend_.”

Swallowing, Steve agreed, “Yeah, I think we do.”

“_He’s very important to me. You understand_?”

“Yes, I understand.” He stepped out of the hallway into an empty conference room. “I think you should come in.”

Her laughter was deep and sultry, like her voice. “_I think you can forget that possibility_.”

“What can I do for you if you won’t meet me?” He asked.

“_I didn’t say that,_” She countered. “_I’ll text you the address._”

He spun around and ran out the doors without a moment of hesitation. The building that Steve parked in front of was not at all what he’d been expecting. He took the elevator to the thirty-third floor and the doors opened to a striking image. The walls were charcoal above marble-white flooring, while the reception desk was a deep black. Off to the side, there were several bright red armchairs overlooking the street below, as well as the office building across the street.

On the wall nearby, a television was mounted, showing what Steve presumed were models’ headshots. “_Welcome to Red Room Escorts,_” a woman’s voice cooed over the speaker. It continued to play in the background as Steve walked further into the reception area. “_Speak to our receptionist to set up a date. We can attend galas to small group functions, even one-on-one dates for lonely hearts._”

One employee – a woman with black hair and olive skin – standing near an opening that Steve presumed led to the actual offices. She glanced at him but then returned her attention to the hall behind him. The crisp black suit she wore was made of soft, flexible material that would allow for more freedom of movement if necessary. _Security guard_, Steve surmised.

He nodded at her, though she did not reciprocate, but he hadn’t thought she would. He approached the desk and pressed his lips together. The woman behind it looked pale with dark circles under her eyes, as if she’d been out all night on a bender. Her dark hair was a stark contrast to her skin, especially given the bright white button-down she wore.

He noticed immediately that there were no nametags.

“Welcome to Red Room Escorts,” she greeted in a too-friendly voice. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Uh,” he began before clearing his throat. “I’m here to see the Widow.”

The facade disappeared and she stood up from her seat. “Hands up, Detective,” she ordered while the other woman strode over. “My associate is going to search you.”

Steve complied, knowing that it wasn’t _legal_, but neither was their business. “Alright,” he said, lifting his hands and standing still.

She watched him for a long moment and he imagined she was waiting to see if he’d try something, though he had no intention of doing so. Finally, she approached and did a standard pat-down, checking his back, chest, and legs.

“You will have to leave your weapon here,” she announced in an accent he couldn’t place. “Policy.”

Again, Steve knew that wasn’t legal, but he nodded. “I’ll need to see it locked up.” He removed the magazine and stashed it in his pants pocket.

The woman behind the desk sneered at him. “Whatever, just give me the gun.” Her tone was annoyed but she didn’t speak again until he’d handed it over. “_Watch_,” she asserted, taking the weapon and carrying it to a wall safe that was camouflaged as a painting.

“Follow me,” the security guard said and turned, leading him to a hallway that was the same color scheme as the lobby. They passed several doors before she stopped outside one near the end of the hall, and knocked.

“Come in,” a familiar voice called and the security guard opened the door.

Upon entering, Steve found three women – one red-headed and two blond – seated at a long, bleach-white table near large, floor-to-ceiling windows. The room also held a large, dark wood desk and was bathed in a rich, deep red paint that seemed about as different from the lobby as it could be.

“Detective Rogers,” the redheaded woman greeted, standing from her chair and gesturing across from her. “Please. Trish, Karen, can you excuse us?” Both women nodded and left the room without saying a word.

He watched them leave but found that the security guard remained inside the office, standing watch at the door. He stepped forward and sat in the offered seat. “Are you the Widow?” He asked.

“Yes,” she answered, sitting back down with a hint of a smile. “Please, call me Natasha.”

Steve could tell that she was used to using beauty as a distraction – the staff were all gorgeous women. Natasha’s red hair matched her lips and she wore a tight black pencil skirt and matching heels. It was all alluring but obviously a sort of camouflage.

“So,” he began, giving her his full attention. “What can I do for you?”

There was a hesitancy in her voice when she replied, “It isn’t for _me_, Detective.” She straightened her back and squared her shoulders. “He’s in danger and I can’t protect him by myself.”

Steve glanced at the dark-haired woman. before he whispered, “Bucky.”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Someone wants him and… they don’t care if he’s willing.”

Something dark and brutal began to come alive inside Steve’s chest as Natasha spoke. Through gritted teeth, he snarled, “Pierce.”

Her eyes widened and he could tell that she was a little impressed by this statement. “James is right. You’re pretty smart.”

Steve’s cheeks burned at that but he forced himself to push on. “Why reach out now?” He asked.

Natasha took a deep breath. “Because Pierce ran off one of James’… dates last night,” she explained, though she spoke in careful terms. She was well trained in discretion but they both knew that Steve was more than aware of Bucky’s work. She furrowed her brows. “He’s not going to keep taking no for an answer.”

Steve sat back. “What makes you think his… interest is dangerous?”

Natasha cocked an eyebrow. “Pierce murdered one of my girls.”

Steve straightened in his chair as she stood up from the table and made her way to a large desk made of dark wood. Leaning down, she opened one of the drawers and pulled out a file folder. She looked up and must have seen the confusion on Steve’s face.

“Can’t keep a lot of my business digital,” she explained. “I have the best firewalls money can buy but I have to ensure the privacy of my clients, as well as my staff.”

She returned to the table and set the folder in front of Steve. The label was blank but, when Steve opened it, he saw that is was personnel data for a woman named Angela. Seeing the photo, Steve gasped.

“I recognize her,” he announced.

“Her name was Angie Martinelli,” Natasha explained, sitting on the table and staring down at the file. “She was a favorite of a lot of my clients. Her schedule was always booked.” Steve turned his attention to Natasha, leaning back to watch her face. “One day, I was contacted by an employee of Pierce Investments; he told me that Mr. Pierce was very interested in Angie, that he’d like to discuss her contract.”

Steve furrowed his brows. “Her contract?”

Natasha nodded. “Each of my staff signs a contract. Red Room pays for their advertising, helps manage their schedules, vets and introduces them to potential clients. In return, they sign on for two years, initially, with the option to renew at the end.”

She turned to him then and held his gaze with shrewd eyes.

“It is _not_ in their contracts that they are to have sex with my clients,” she clarified. “My business is not about sex. If an escort chooses to sleep with a date, they do so without my knowledge and I do not know of any profit from those interactions. Do you understand?”

Steve sighed. He knew it was all a line she’d fed to police over and over, but he also knew that her business was not his concern. “I understand,” he confirmed.

She eyed him for a long moment before continuing on. “She had been talking about getting out for a while but we hadn’t discussed it much, really. It’s not unusual,” she added, “for an escort to become a mistress or sugar baby. So, when I received the call, I assumed it was something she had been discussing with Pierce.” She shifted on the table, crossing her legs at the knee. “I encouraged her to to do it. Pierce is very wealthy and I believed she would be well taken care of.” Her red lips formed a hard line. “I was mistaken.”

Steve swallowed. “What happened to her?”

Natasha took a deep breath. “He beat and raped her, then shot her in the head.”

Wincing, Steve looked down at the photo. “I remember her. Found… in a dumpster, right?”

“Yes,” Natasha growled, standing up and walking back to the desk. “Less than a week later.”

Steve frowned. “Can you prove any of this?”

She nodded her head. “I have emails and I recorded the conversations with Pierce’s employee.”

“That doesn’t implicate him in her murder,” Steve sighed.

“I know that,” she replied. “But he’ll do the same thing to Bucky that he did to that hooker last night.”

“How do you know about that?” Steve demanded.

Natasha smirked. “I hear things, detective. I also make it my business to know when a prostitute who looks suspiciously like my employee is murdered.”

“What makes you think it was Pierce that did it?”

Natasha took the seat across from him again. “I told you,” she said, “Pierce found Bucky last night. He doesn’t always go to the same places and there are only a few people who know ahead of time.”

“Who does the scheduling?”

Natasha frowned. “Jessica or the escorts themselves.”

“Who chooses the locations?”

“The client does, apart from the initial meeting. I choose that so that I can ensure my staff’s safety.”

“What goes into your vetting process? Could Bucky’s client from last night have given the information to someone?”

Natasha sighed. “Yes, that is a possibility.” She adjusted her silk blouse. “But my clients go through weeks of background checks; I review employment records, social media, and bank statements.”

“Only at first?” Steve asked.

“I maintain access to those records… in the event they’re needed.”

Steve sat forward. “Do you still have access to Pierce’s?”

Natasha grinned. “Are you asking me to give you someone’s private information, detective?”

Steve shook his head. “I’m asking you to help me save Bucky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck.  
I have so much written already but then panic because I feel like it needs more and so it takes time and I'm sorry. TT-TT Please enjoy this chapter. The next one is perfect and will not take as long.

Steve had information he never thought he’d gain access to. Before he started his car, he sent a text to Maria._ Meet at the station._ He rushed back to the precinct and into the squad room, finding her at her desk.

“What do you have?” She asked as he approached.

He glanced around them, noting only Sergeant Danvers, one other detective, and two uniformed officers. “Let’s, uh, look at this somewhere else.” He turned, but then looked back at her. “Bring your laptop.”

Nodding, she followed him to the small conference room and shut the door behind him. “What is it? Must be something big.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, “but also… I didn’t exactly come into possession of it… through the proper channels.”

Maria eyed him for a moment. “I get you.” She took a seat at the table and set her laptop in front of her. “I take it you can’t tell _me_ where it came from.”

Sighing, Steve shook his head. “I think it’s best that I don’t. For now.”

“Alright,” she said.

Steve hesitated for a moment before he handed her a small flash drive. She took it carefully, as if it might break at any moment, and plugged it into the USB port on her laptop. The file opened and she gasped, seeming to realize how sensitive the situation had become. Glancing at the door to ensure no one was nearby, she opened the documents one at a time.

“Jesus Christ,” she breathed. “These are – Steve, this is Pierce’s… his business’ bank account. There’s routing numbers for Cayman Islands accounts too.”

She clicked around, finding a folder labeled ‘Surveillance;’ when she opened it, there were hundreds of photos of Pierce. Some were at restaurants; some were at his home; others were in his office; and there were a number of images of him at clubs or bars, surrounded by younger men.

“Holy shit,” Maria gasped. “Look!”

Steve stared at the image she was pointing to, finding a very much alive Billy Russo, dancing while Pierce watched from the VIP couch. “Maria, that’s Le Bain.”

“No shit,” she replied. “Steve, we’re gonna need help with this. There’s too much for us to go through on our own.”

Steve stared at her. “Who can we trust?”

Maria sighed, leaning back in the chair. “I’d say Danvers for sure. Rhodey, Sam, and Hope are all good cops.”

“I’ll talk to Danvers and Sam. Can you get the other two on board?”

Grinning, Maria said, “Not a problem.”

They removed the flash drive and Maria closed the laptop, carrying it with her into the squad room. Steve followed behind, hesitating for a moment before he approached Carol. Their Sergeant was a towering woman that Steve had always respected; they’d worked closely on a few investigations and she’d been pivotal in several of his cases.

“Sergeant,” he greeted as he approached her. “Uh, how’s it going?”

She cocked her eyebrow at him. “What is it, Steve?”

Clearing his throat, he answered, “I need your help.”

“Why me?” She asked. “Why not Beck or Toomes?”

Steve swallowed. “I can’t… trust them.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Is this like the time you came to me for help because you didn’t have a case?”

“Well –”

“Or that time you needed help because you knew who that kidnapper was based off of a single photo and no one believed you?”

“Come on –” he tried, but she continued.

“Or that time you interviewed _one_ suspect and were convinced he was the rapist?”

Steve set his jaw. “The thing about all of those examples,” he explained, “is that I was _right_ on every one of them.”

Smiling, she took a moment to consider him. “Alright,” she answered. “Tell me what you’ve got and let’s see if you’re right _this time_.”

He sighed in relief. “Maria and I have a lot of information to sift through and it’s… um… I received the information from a confidential source.”

Carol blinked. “You mean it was obtained illegally.”

Steve gulped. “Something like that.”

She scowled at him but stood from her desk. “Well, I’m gonna get some coffee. We should set up in the second floor conference room, the one they use for mandatory training.”

“Why not up here?”

Carol frowned at him. “If this information is of a _sensitive_ nature, we need to manage the flow of information.”

Steve nodded his head. “Alright.”

After that, Steve called Sam to join them and, twenty minutes later, he was in a small room with five other people. “None of the information discussed leaves this room.” Carol waited until everyone nodded in agreement, then continued. “Walk us through this, Steve,” she suggested.

Nodded, Steve looked at each of them for a moment before he began. He started with a rundown of the initial crime – the shooting at the nightclub. Then, he reviewed the statements given to the police, including Bucky’s; he asked Maria to reiterate the information obtained from Detective Banner; and then he showed them the information on the flash drive.

Carol’s eyes were wide and suspicious. “Steve, how the hell did you get this?”

His mouth set in a thin line. “A confidential source.”

“Steve,” Rhodey said, leaning forward. “You have access to Cayman Island bank routing numbers and what looks like _weeks_ of surveillance photos.”

“Yes,” Steve answered. “And?”

“_And_, none of this will hold up in court. None of this can be used as evidence!”

“He’s right, Steve,” Hope said. “The defense will demand you produce the informant and the judge will more than likely agree.”

“I know that,” Steve argued. “But if _we_ can find something else here, something that can tie Pierce to Blonsky, the shooter, or to this Billy Russo, then we won’t need this.”

They all looked at each other. “Alright, Steve,” Carol said. “Let’s dig in. But, I’d recommend pursuing protection for your CI. The fact that he or she has this information or more puts them in serious danger.”

Steve nodded. “Alright.”

“Maria,” Carol said, “keep going through those photos. Hope, dig into these bank statements. Rhodey, do you still know that guy at the Treasury Department?”

“Yeah,” he answered.

“See if he can get you _anything_ on these Cayman accounts. If we can find a money trail that leads to the shooter, Blonsky, or this Billy Russo, we’ll be good.” Turning, she added, “Sam, I recommend you try to get more of Le Bain’s camera footage. If we can figure out _when_ Pierce was in Russo’s company, maybe we can link it to a transfer of funds, or establish more of a connection.”

“You got it,” Sam agreed.

“I’m seeing massive payouts,” Hope said and everyone turned to her. “What is… ‘bitcoin’?”

“It’s cryptocurrency,” Steve answered. “It’s sometimes used in money laundering, sex work, and so on, but it isn’t very smart.”

“Why?” Hope asked.

“It leaves a permanent trail,” Carol said, grinning. “Follow it, Hope. How much were those payouts and what were the dates?”

Hope wrote the information down and handed it to Steve. “This’ll help with pursuing protection,” he said.

“Steve,” Carol said, following him into the hallway and lowering her voice. “Pierce is powerful. He’s got cops, we both know it.” Steve nodded but didn’t answer. “What I’m saying is, the person you’re trying to protect is going to be in danger even _with_ a detail.”

“I thought of that,” Steve replied. “But I have to try, Carol.”

Something in her expression shifted minutely, just enough that Steve could tell she was working something over in her mind. “This is personal for you,” she declared.

“Carol, no, it’s –”

“I don’t care, Steve,” she interrupted. “You’re a good cop. But I need to know that your personal feelings are not going to interfere here.”

Steve set his jaw. “They won’t.”

She watched his face for a long moment before nodding her head and turning to go back into the conference room. He took a deep breath and turned around, rushing to the stairs. In his mind, he prayed over and over, _Please find something. Please help me save him._

When he entered the squad room, he hurried to Fury’s office. “Captain,” he said as he shut the door. “I’ve got some new information and a… reluctant witness.”

Raising his eyebrow, Fury asked, “What does this witness want to persuade him or her to come forward?”

“Protection,” he said, immediately.

Fury looked through the glass that made up his office walls. “You know there’s cops involved.”

“I do,” Steve agreed.

After a moment’s pause, Fury nodded once. “Go to the DA. That sweet one, the one you used to date.”

Steve’s face fell. “Sir, I don’t think –”

“Is there some reason you’re still standing here, Rogers?” He demanded, leaning forward to look at a case file.

“No, sir,” Steve answered, ignoring the heavy weight in his gut.

The trip from the precinct to the District Attorney’s office took almost thirty minutes but he needed every last one of them. He approached the young woman at the reception desk and tried to smile.

“Hey Darcy,” he greeted.

She eyed him through her thick-rimmed glasses with a look of amusement. “You’re here to see Peggy.”

Nodding, he said, “Yeah, uh, if she’s in.”

She smiled and turned her attention to her computer. “The hearing got out about twenty minutes ago. She’ll be back any time now.”

“Okay.” He turned and walked to the uncomfortable, dark wood chairs that lined the wall. “I’ll just wait.”

“For what?” A woman’s accented voice asked and Steve nearly leapt out of his skin.

“Peggy,” he said, turning toward her.

Her dark brown hair was in a perfect bun; her lipstick was impeccable; her nails were manicured; and her suit was free of any wrinkles. Everything about Peggy was immaculate and spotless. Steve felt like a bum as he stood in her presence, wearing an old grey sweater and sporting a longer beard than he had ever had while they were together.

Those feelings did not keep him from holding his head high. “I need to talk to you.”

She raised her perfectly shaped eyebrow and nodded. “Of course, Steve. I’ll just cancel my afternoon, shall I?”

He sighed. “The situation doesn’t call for sarcasm.”

“They rarely _don’t_, Steve,” she quipped, but extended her arm, gesturing toward her office. “Please.”

He led the way and held the door open for her, hoping his tight-lipped smile was good enough. She took a seat behind a large, beautiful wooden desk that she had inherited with the office, while Steve took one of the chairs in front of it. Behind her, there were several filing cabinets lining the wall, topped with potted plants and other décor.

It was all classy; it was all _very_ Peggy.

“What can I do for you, Steve?” She asked, sincerely.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the paper he’d taken notes on during his conversation with Natasha. “I have a case,” he began, but Peggy interrupted him.

“The Blonsky hit, right?”

“Yes,” he answered. “I have a witness but they’re reluctant to testify.”

“Because this person’s life will be in danger,” she guessed.

Steve nodded. “Yes.”

She pursed her lips. “I assume you’re here asking for protection for this witness.”

Again, he replied, “Yes.”

She tapped the desk with her fingernails, looking at Steve through narrowed eyes. “For that, he’ll need to know the shooter’s name and I will need specific information about how they know one another. If his information doesn’t lead to an arrest, the protection goes away.”

“Now, wait a minute –” Steve tried but was cut off again.

“These are the same requirements we expect for all witnesses. You know this.”

“Peggy,” he contested, “this witness’ dealings with the shooter were… well, there’s more than one reason he’s hesitant.”

Peggy’s eyes widened and she looked as though she were about to burst into laughter. “You want me to put a prostitute before a Grand Jury? Are you serious, Steve?”

“Peggy, it shouldn’t matter what he does – he’s a witness. I know for a fact that you had two homeless addicts testify last month. Why is their word better than his?”

“They were testifying as part of a plea agreement to reduce their sentences,” she argued. “You think this young man will tell me he solicited money out of the shooter?”

“Money never exchanged hands,” Steve countered.

“The intent was still there, Steve!” She argued, sitting up straighter.

“I have no evidence of that.”

“Oh, good Lord,” she groaned.

“Peggy,” he said in a much quieter tone. “He’s in danger and can help us.”

Her eyes held Steve’s for a long moment. “What is it about _this_ one?”

Without responding to her question, Steve unfolded the paper. “The witness met the shooter at the club; he knows his name and contact information. The shooter was adamant that the witness meet him there at a very specific time.”

Her eyes flicked to the paper in his hand for a moment. “Alright,” she consented. “Why?”

“The answer to that requires a bit more… suspension of disbelief,” he said, slowly, rocking his head side to side.

She frowned. “Tell me.”

Steve sighed in relief and sat up, handing the paper over. “Over a year ago, a prostitute named Angie Martinelli was found in a dumpster; she’d been beaten severely and shot but the case went cold.” He shifted in his seat. “I asked the lab to locate the bullet if they could and compare it to this shooting.”

“And?” Her voice was impatient, which didn’t surprise Steve a bit.

“It’s a match,” he announced.

Her expression changed then; it became more open and interested. “What’s the connection?”

“My informant told me who Angie’s last client was,” he said.

“The shooter?”

“No.” Steve took a deep breath. “Alexander Pierce.”

“You can’t be serious,” Peggy announced, eyes wide with shock. “_Alexander Pierce_?”

“I know,” Steve said, putting his hand up. “The shooter works with him, or for him, I know it.”

“But you have no evidence?”

He grit his teeth. “I have evidence that shows a large payout from Pierce’s account the day of the shooting, then another one the day after.”

She collapsed back in her leather office chair with a heavy sigh. “Steve,” she said, “I know that you… I know that Blonsky was an informant working for Hydra. I also know that his handler has suspected Pierce’s involvement with Hydra for some time.” She rubbed her forehead gently, trying not to smudge her makeup. “But all you’ve proven is that Pierce spends excessive amounts of money and the gun that killed Blonsky also killed a prostitute.”

“Peggy –”

“If you find the shooter, come back to see me.”

“The witness,” he finally said. “He needs protection.”

Peggy’s dark eyes held his for a long moment. “Steve, there is no case here. The witness – a prostitute – has the name of his client and, perhaps, a phone number.”

“He –”

“However,” she interrupted him. “If you find the shooter or he learns that this witness is cooperating with the police, we can offer protection. Right now, the witness has nothing that would make him a target.”

Steve was out of his chair before she’d finished speaking; he spun on his heel and left her office without so much as a backward glance. He felt at the same time both furious and helpless; he’d sworn to Natasha that he could keep Bucky safe and he had already failed.

Unless…

He pulled his cell phone out and dialed the number Natasha had given him. “_да_,” a sultry voice answered.

“You speak Russian?” He asked without thinking.

“_Ah, Steve_,” she said. “_How did it go?”_

He sighed. “Not well. Listen, where is Bucky going to be tonight?” She didn’t answer for a long moment and Steve added, “I’m not going to interfere in his work.”

“_You’re a cop_,” she replied. “_Your job is to interfere_.”

“Well, I won’t be on duty.”

“_I see_,” she acknowledged. “_But I won’t give you that information_.”

“I can just follow him,” Steve argued.

“_That, Detective Rogers, is _your _business_,” she declared before the line went dead.

“Fuck,” Steve whispered, staring down at his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features more of Bucky working, giving more insight into how he enjoys his job. <3 Hope you enjoy!

Bucky hurried from his bedroom as his phone buzzed loudly on the counter. He checked the caller ID and smiled. _Eddie Brock._ “Hi, baby,” he purred.

“_James,_” a man’s deep voice murmured. “_I know I’m not on your schedule tonight but… I thought I’d try my chances_.”

Bucky smiled. “You missin’ me, Eddie?”

“_Honestly_?” Eddie chuckled. “_I am, yeah. I haven’t… since the __last__ time we…_”

“I know, baby,” Bucky interrupted. “Let me take a look at my night. One sec.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and opened his calendar. “Hmm, it looks like I have some free time tonight. How long do you want me?”

“_How long can I have you_?”

“Hmm…” Bucky thought for a moment. “I could meet you at one? Then you can have me _all night_. Or is that too late?”

“_No, that’s not too late at all._” He paused a moment, though Bucky heard rustling, as if Eddie were looking at his own cell phone. Then, there was another moment of silence before he spoke again. “_Pod 51__. Room 1627_.”

“I’ll see you there, lover,” Bucky agreed, smiling.

He put the phone down and rolled his head around, stretching his neck. The hot shower he’d taken had eased the strain a bit but his restless nights were starting to really affect him. After he pulled his clothes on and was about to fix his hair, his phone started vibrating again.

“Nat?” He asked. “What is it?”

“_I met with the detective_,” she said. “_He is… motivated to help you. One day, maybe you can tell me the history there._”

“Maybe,” he agreed, “one day.” He sat down on his bed. “So… what did he say?”

“_He’s not having success getting you protection through… official channels but, as I said, he’s motivated._”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” he said.

“_He’s looking out for you_,” she replied. “_You can go to work tonight if you feel up to it, okay_?”

He nodded. “I am. I’m going.”

“_Be safe_,” she pleaded. “_I’ll talk to you later._”

Bucky hung up and flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Since they’d been _reunited_ that night at the station, Bucky had struggled to think of anything besides Steve. He was so different than the boy Bucky had known all those years ago. When they’d been in high school, Steve was scrawny and sickly, but somewhere over the last fifteen years, he’d completely transformed.

Back then, Bucky had loved Steve as he was – small and stubborn, but so loyal. Those sweet, innocent feelings had grown over the years; it was easier for Bucky to ignore them early on, to brush them off as brotherly devotion. When his parents told him that they were moving, though… Bucky felt like his heart had been ripped out.

He didn’t tell Steve right away; didn’t know how to say it. It did eventually come out and hurt Bucky all the more when Steve seemed… okay. He didn’t care like Bucky – didn’t ache inside.

Or so Bucky had thought at first. As the weeks passed and Bucky’s belongings disappeared into boxes, Steve seemed to become more and more panicked. It had been his idea that Bucky come over the night before they left.

_I’m gonna miss you_.

_It’s gonna be okay, Buck_.

Sitting up suddenly, Bucky tried to scrub the memory from his mind – the rejection.

That incident had informed every encounter that Bucky’d had with Steve so far. He kept his pain wrapped around him like a shield, holding a barrier that might protect him from remembering when Steve was everything he wanted.

Since then, Bucky’s desires had changed and that Steve – the small, thin boy – was so far from what Bucky wanted. He wanted someone who could take control, could take care of him. He wanted to be able to _let go _and know he was safe.

The Steve that walked into that interrogation room, though – the tall, broad man with slicked back hair and a beard – he was different. So different.

_Let me take care of you_.

Bucky truly loved his job – he loved giving pleasure and satisfaction to his clients. But it was exhausting sometimes to give and give and give, come home and sleep, then do it all again. He took one night off each week, but since the shooting, sometimes he even went out to pick someone up those nights too.

Not because he needed the money – not even because he was lonely. He tried to tell himself it was because he was scared to be alone.

The truth was, though, that he couldn’t get Steve out of his mind. This beautiful, kind, stubborn man who checked all of Bucky’s boxes – physically and otherwise.

_Let me take care of you_.

Bucky sighed and let himself imagine what it would be like if Steve was his Daddy. Every image he mustered made him feel happy and content. He hoped Steve would be a gentle lover, not hard or rough; Bucky got enough of that from his work.

He liked the idea of Steve getting pleasure from caring for him, touching him softly and easing into everything at Bucky’s pace. When Steve had approached him in his apartment, he’d been rash, even pushy, and Bucky had shut down.

But when Bucky told him to leave, he did. His expression told Bucky he knew he’d done the wrong thing.

But… how did Steve even _know_ that was what Bucky liked? It was not the kind of kink people tried on for size – it wasn’t mainstream, so to speak. How had he known that Bucky wanted a Daddy?

Could it be that… Steve wanted that too?

He checked his watch and rolled off the bed, heading to his bathroom to finish getting ready. At nine, he had a date with Emma – a very stoic woman he enjoyed spending time with, in and out of bed. She hardly laughed or even smiled, but she seemed to _come alive_ when they fucked. Her eyes glowed as she rode him wildly. Before he came, he tossed her onto her back and went down on her.

Afterward, he showered and changed. She smiled at him as she handed over a very generous tip. “You’ve earned this,” she said with a wink. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

Bucky kissed her on the cheek and left the hotel, heading toward a twenty-four hour coffee shop nearby. He didn’t usually need any added caffeine during work but, ever since the shooting, he hadn’t slept well. As he hurried across the street, he could have sworn he heard footsteps behind him, but when he turned, there was no one there.

His heartbeat picked up and he sped up. If there was someone, it might just be another night owl – or it could be Rumlow, following him for Pierce. Once he made it to the cafe, he approached the counter and the young barista tried to smile at him. “What’ll you have?” She asked.

“Blended mocha, please.” He paid and slipped a twenty in the tip jar, then moved to the end of the counter to wait. There were only a few other patrons – mostly students, using the wi-fi – so he easily snagged a table once his drink was ready.

He finished it quickly and used the bathroom to brush his teeth before heading toward Pod 51. He considered walking the four blocks but, again, he heard footsteps behind him. He spun around but found no one – not even a shadow. His breathing picked up and he rushed to the curb to hail a taxi.

“Pod 51, please,” he gasped as he threw himself into the backseat and turned to watch behind them. He felt his heart pounding in his chest as a figure stepped out of the shadows and approached the curb, as if to catch a cab as well.

Bucky wanted to believe that he was merely being paranoid but… he knew that something wasn’t quite right.

Pod 51 was a minimalist hotel; its design was modern and vibrant with bold colors. It didn’t have many amenities which made it affordable, but still attractive. Bucky knew that Eddie’s reporter salary didn’t offer him the ability to take Bucky where his other clients might, but he’d never turned Eddie down for a date.

Maybe it was sentiment, maybe it was that he liked Eddie as a person, or maybe it was something else. He knew he didn’t have _feelings_ for Eddie, that was clear. They were, at best, _friends_.

He knocked on the door to room 1627; while he waited, he unbuttoned his shirt partway and tousled his hair. When Eddie appeared, he was smiling, shyly, as usual. “Hey James,” he murmured as he stepped aside.

“Hi Eddie,” Bucky replied, strutting into the room and pulling him into a kiss.

From the moment they had met, Bucky had been able to read Eddie like a book. He wanted someone to _want him_, to be _excited_ about being with him. The enthusiasm that Bucky exuded during their time together always seemed to hit its mark.

After he’d made Eddie come three times, he took a shower while Eddie dozed. When he came out in only a towel, Eddie was sitting up on the edge of the bed. He smiled, though he still seemed nervous, regardless of what they’d been doing. Bucky sauntered over and kissed him.

“I had fun, baby,” he whispered. “I love it when you call me.”

Eddie grinned. “I, uh, I’d like to set up a – you know, a recurring appointment?”

Bucky nodded. “I’d like that too.”

He turned around and reached into his bag, though the room was small enough that he didn’t have to move away from Eddie. They agreed on dates and times, and Bucky put his phone away. He dressed in a nice suit, then pulled his hair up in a bun and tossed his glasses on. Grabbing his small suitcase, he pressed a kiss to Eddie’s cheek and headed toward the door.

“See you in a couple weeks, lover,” he purred.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed, smiling sleepily.

Bucky made his way to the lobby, knowing he looked just like the rest of the investors up for the international markets. He hurried out onto the street where he hailed a cab. It was after four in the morning when he finally got into his apartment. He threw all of his clothes off and collapsed onto his bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

When he awoke that afternoon, he felt clammy and sick, as if he had a fever but he knew it was from his nightmares. He stripped his bed to wash the sheets and then took a cool shower. Afterward, he slipped one of his tight white t-shirts on and some skinny jeans, then went into the kitchen. While his espresso was brewing, he checked his phone and found a text from Natasha.

**Nat 9:32 AM**: _You’d better be charging that reporter full price._

He smirked and was about to answer when there was a knock at his door. He swallowed around a lump in his throat and quietly made his way over. When he checked the peephole, though, he sighed in both relief and exasperation.

“Steve, what the hell are you doing here?” He demanded as he swung the door open.

He regretted how easily he could fall back on that old hurt, how readily the anger came. The more Bucky learned of Steve, the more he wanted to know; the more Steve did his best to help Bucky, the more Bucky wanted to let him in.

It was a struggle, though, to figure out _how_ to let those walls down. They’d been set in such heavy stone, Bucky didn’t know if he was strong enough to do it on his own.

Steve’s eyes looked over Bucky in an assessing way that didn’t come off as lewd. “You’re alright?”

“What?” Bucky asked. “I’m alright? Yeah, good, great, livin’ the dream.” He turned away to conceal his wince. _Why am I being like this_? He wondered.

He walked away from the door, allowing Steve to either come in or leave. The steady footsteps behind him indicated that Steve intended to continue their conversation.

Steve sighed, as he shut the door.. “I was really worried, Buck.”

“Yeah? _Why_?” Bucky glanced at Steve over his shoulder..

“I lost track of you last night,” Steve answered, following Bucky into the kitchen.

Spinning around, Bucky glared him down. “_You_ were following me?”

Steve sighed and shook his head. “Natasha wouldn’t tell me where you were going, so I tailed you from your apartment.” Bucky cocked his eyebrow and Steve put his hands up. “To protect you.”

“Sure,” Bucky snarked. “I’m sure you have no intention of busting me or my clients once this shitshow is over.”

“I don’t,” Steve replied, earnestly. “Bucky, I don’t care about that. I – I mean, I do but not because it’s illegal.”

Bucky eyed him for a moment. “Then why _do_ you care?” Steve’s face shifted through a range of expressions – shocked, confused, angry, sad, and frustrated. “Whatever,” Bucky sighed, “don’t tell me. If you’re going to follow me again tonight, you might want to dress nicer.”

Steve cleared his throat. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to Furnace, the new dance club.” He didn’t mention that it was a_ gay_ club, or that he wasn’t meeting a client, though he was sure Steve would tail him either way. “They won’t let you in if you look like a cop.”

Bucky drank his espresso in one gulp, keeping his back to Steve. “What time?” Steve asked.

Pressing the button to brew another shot, Bucky answered, “I’ll be there at about eleven-thirty.”

“Furnace at eleven-thirty,” Steve confirmed and Bucky heard his heavy steps walking away. “I’ll see you then.”

“Bye,” Bucky whispered, sure Steve couldn't hear him. He waited for the door to latch before he dropped his head in his hands. _Don’t get attached. He’s gonna leave anyway. Don’t let him in._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think?


	13. Chapter 13 - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm posting this one but part 2 won't be up right away. <3 I know it's a little short but trust me when I say it'll be worth it!  
A big thank you to [Em](https://twitter.com/em_dibujsb) for the art in this chapter. I've been so, so, so excited to share it!!  
This chapter is dedicated to jt341! I hope your week gets better. <3

Steve felt ridiculous. He looked ridiculous. His shirt was too tight and his jeans hugged him in all the ways he’d never wanted them to. He leaned against the bar, staring out over the dance floor with his arms crossed.

They had been at Furnace for nearly an hour and Steve had kept a vigilant watch on Bucky the entire time. As he observed, there were several men that were making out or even slipping off to the bathroom together. At one point, he saw a very obvious drug deal – it looked like cocaine but he couldn’t bother with that at the moment. His entire focus was trained on Bucky and those surrounding him.

He was conscious of every point of entry in the large room, including two service doors that were meant to be camouflaged. He was grateful that Bucky wasn’t near any of them, so any attempt to grab him would be more easily interrupted.

Steve knew that, if Pierce were to come after Bucky here, he would not send the same shooter he’d hired for Blonsky. This knowledge meant that Steve had no idea what to look for and Bucky could even be dancing with his attacker.

It was easy for Steve to recognize that Bucky was more vigilant of himself and his safety than he’d ever let on. In order to have stayed safe in his work, Bucky would have developed a keen awareness of his surroundings, which was clear even in that moment. While his expression seemed warm and inviting, there was a swiftness to his movements that ensured he could move away if he needed to.

One impediment to Steve’s surveillance was the number of men trying to hit on him. He understood that he was desirable, but luckily, the persistent frown on his face dissuaded most of the club’s patrons from approaching him, though there were still some who tried.

“Hi there,” a thin, dark haired man said as he sidled up to the bar. “I’m Scott.”

Steve sighed. “I’m not interested.”

“Oh. That’s too bad,” Scott said with a smile. “I was gonna tell you that you’ve got America’s ass.”

The comment was so strange that Steve couldn’t keep from laughing. He shook his head and looked over. “Thank you, I think.”

“You’re welcome,” Scott said. “So, you looking for something in particular?”

Steve held Scott’s gaze. “Yeah, I am.”

Standing up straighter, Scott asked, “What’s that?”

Steve bit his lip and looked out at the crowded dance floor. He could find Bucky easily – he was surrounded by men, exuding sexual energy and confidence. When he’d told Steve he was coming here, Bucky had failed to mention that he didn’t have a date.

That meant, to Steve’s dismay, that he was at the club to pick someone up. Bucky’s attention was intently focused on the men around him, which allowed Steve to stare rather heavily. Every now and then, though, Steve thought he saw Bucky look at him.

“About six feet tall,” Steve began. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. “Long brown hair, cleft chin, perfect smile, beautiful blue eyes.” Steve found himself smiling. “Sassy but so, so sweet when he wants to be.”

He scratched his beard as he watched Bucky sway to the beat, wrapping his arms around one man and then moving on to the next. Deep in his chest, he felt the burning jealousy he’d expected to feel the night before, when he followed Bucky to meet with that beautiful woman.

He never did, not even when he followed Bucky to the next hotel, where he met with the man. But at that moment, watching Bucky dance with different men, it roared to life inside him.

“Well,” Scott finally answered, “that doesn’t sound a thing like me.”

Steve looked at him and smiled. “Sorry, man.”

Scott shook his head and stepped away, grinning at Steve as he left. Once he’d faded into the crowd, Steve’s focus shifted back to Bucky. Still dancing, he appeared to have found a partner he was enjoying a great deal. Something occurred to Steve as he watched – something selfish and conceited.

Every man that Bucky preferred, every one he paid special attention to – they were tall and blond. When he’d followed Bucky the night before, the woman and the man had both been blond, as well.

He’d even said to Steve, “_Guess I have a type_.”

Steve’s mouth fell open and he inhaled sharply. _Could it be_…?

He didn’t have a chance to finish that thought because one of the dancers pulled Bucky into a kiss. He was sure that he saw Bucky look his way then, sure that Bucky _knew_ he’d been watching. Before Steve knew what was happening, he’d grabbed his jacket off the stool and yanked it on as he pushed his way through the crowd. His eyes never lost sight of his goal and, within a few moments, he was closing in on Bucky.

As Steve neared them, the man glanced his way and asked, “That’s him?”

Bucky looked at Steve with dilated eyes. “Yeah.” His lips were red and puffy from the kiss. “That’s him.”

Without another word, the man walked away leaving Bucky standing motionless, heaving breaths and waiting for Steve to approach. There was something in his eyes, something that made Steve’s heart beat faster. When they were less than a foot apart, Steve placed a gentle hold on Bucky’s waist and led him off the dance floor. By some miracle, neither of them tripped or stumbled over any of the dancers in their way.

Once they were away from the crowd, Steve pressed Bucky against the wall and leaned in close. The scent of Bucky’s mint shampoo was distinct, even among the overpowering aromas of sweat and alcohol. Steve maintained several inches between them, ensuring that he wasn’t trapping Bucky.

He didn’t know what he was doing; he didn’t know how to say what he needed to. All he knew was that he couldn’t watch Bucky kiss anyone else as long as he knew those lips could be his.

“Steve –” Bucky started but Steve interrupted him.

“Earlier you asked me… why I care where you go and what you do.” Steve touched Bucky’s chin until he tilted his head back, meeting Steve’s gaze. Their height difference was only a few inches but Steve loved it. “It’s because I care about _you_, Buck.” He licked his lips before adding, “I want to take care of you.”

Bucky’s eyes fluttered and he began to press into Steve’s hand, but then he seemed to shake himself. “You want to fuck me?” He asked in that same way he’d done before, as if nothing had changed, as if things weren’t different now.

Steve wouldn’t have that anymore. “Enough, Bucky,” he commanded and Bucky swallowed. Steve could feel Bucky’s Adams apple bob under his fingers.His voice softened when he went on, “I don’t want you to talk to me like one of your clients.”

“Then what do you want?” Bucky demanded, slapping Steve’s hand away.

Steve didn’t answer immediately. He lifted his hand again, hesitating for only a moment before running his fingers through Bucky’s hair, luxuriating in the smooth, soft tendrils. Bucky let out a contented sigh, though Steve knew that he’d deny it. A smile tugged at Steve’s lips as he recognized that Bucky was allowing him to do this. There was no agreement between them – it was just Steve and Bucky.

Then, a dark possessiveness filled him as he thought of the man who’d kissed Bucky. That kiss was different from his clients – that kiss was_ recreational_ and Steve couldn’t conceal how much he’d hated it. He wanted to claim and demand but he couldn’t do any such thing without Bucky wanting it as well.

He understood what he’d failed to before: Bucky didn’t want to be controlled; he wanted to be treasured.

“Bucky,” Steve murmured, leaning close to Bucky’s ear so he could hear over the music. “I need you to tell me what _you_ want.” There was a sharp intake of breath right in Steve’s ear, as if Bucky was startled by the request. “Can you do that for me?”

He could tell how much Bucky wanted this but he was still afraid. Both of Bucky’s palms pressed against Steve’s chest but they weren’t exerting pressure – not _yet_, at least. It was almost as though Bucky needed the support.

_Or_, Steve thought miserably, _he doesn’t want this._

He began to pull his hand away but Bucky grabbed his wrist suddenly, holding it tightly. Steve leanedback, meeting Bucky’s wide, dilated eyes. Steve relaxed and let Bucky move his hand up, over Bucky’s chest and collar bone, to his throat. Pausing there, Bucky opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. There was desire in his expression but there was also fear and shame – there was _doubt_.

He released Steve’s hand and waited, as if expecting Steve to pull away.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Steve rasped, touching Bucky’s throat with gentle, but firm pressure. That same possessiveness, the dark and harried desire he’d kept contained, was bleeding through. “You can tell me. You can say it.”

Bucky licked his lips, then swallowed against Steve’s hand; his eyelids fluttered at the feeling. Steve wanted to swoop in and kiss him; he wanted to make Bucky _his._

But he needed Bucky to say it.

“Can you tell me, sweetheart?” He breathed, tightening his hold just a fraction.

Bucky moaned then, a desperate and needy sound. Steve could see how much he wanted this, wanted to say it, but there was something holding him back. Something painful.

“I’ll give you _everything_ you ask for, baby boy,” he promised, giving Bucky a soft smile. “Anything you want, I’ll do it.” Bucky was trembling and everything inside Steve was desperate to kiss him and hold him, to comfort and care for him. But he would wait. “Tell me,” he said, low and dark, “what do you want?”

Bucky breathed in and stood up on his toes, closing the distance between them. If he tried to press their lips together, or take this another step, Steve would halt his movement. However, Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders to pull him closer, meeting his gaze.

When their lips were barely an inch apart, he whispered, “A Daddy.”


	14. Chapter 13 - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Part 2 of Chapter 13, which will be from Bucky's perspective with a little more ;D We're definitely earning that E rating today!  
Again, thank you to [Em_dibujsb](https://twitter.com/em_dibujsb) for the commission featured again in Part 2. Just so wonderful, I have to showcase it twice. <3

Bucky liked dancing and he enjoyed dancing with other people. He loved being desired this way, without the expectation of sex and payment. Truly, he loved his job and wouldn’t give it up for the world but there was something to be said for pure, raw want.

Even if he hadn’t been getting that from his dance partners – which he was – he was certainly getting it from the bar.

From Steve.

A handful of men had approached him and Steve had rebuffed each one. Bucky had felt a twinge of jealousy when one of them got Steve to smile but, soon enough, that one went away too.

“So,” a tall blond said, “you interested in getting out of here?”

Bucky grinned and wrapped his arms around the guy’s shoulders. “I am, but I’m already going home with someone.”

“Oh? That’s too bad,” he said.

“I wouldn’t mind putting on a show for him,” Bucky suggested with a grin.

With raised eyebrows, the blond asked, “Your boyfriend the jealous type?”

Bucky pursed his lips. “Wanna find out?”

He knew he wasn’t playing fair. He knew that Steve was getting riled up – he could tell from across the club. As he watched Bucky move from partner to partner, his gaze only seemed to intensify. He stayed put, though, and merely observed.

However, when the nameless blonde pulled him into a filthy kiss, that was clearly the straw that broke the camel’s back. Bucky glanced up to find that Steve was moving his way, efficiently parting the crowd.

His dance partner’s eyes followed where Bucky was staring. “That’s him?” He asked with what Bucky imagined was anxiety in his voice.

Bucky knew he looked debauched; he knew that Steve could see how excited he was. “Yeah,” he replied, “that’s him.”

Without another word, the blond left but Bucky didn’t pay any attention to where he’d gone. Couldn’t. Not when Steve’s eyes were so intensely focused on him, gluing him to that spot.

It was seconds before Steve was standing in front of him, but it felt like hours. Then, suddenly the world was moving too fast and Steve’s hands were on his waist, leading him through the crowd. The next thing he knew, his back was against the wall and Steve was pressing in close to him.

Too close. Bucky wasn’t ready for it. He looked down, trying to think. “Steve –” he began but Steve spoke over him.

“Earlier you asked me… why I care where you go and what you do.” There was pressure on his chin as Steve’s fingers made him look up. “It’s because I care about _you_, Buck.” He licked his lips and Bucky couldn’t help but watch the movement. “I want to take care of you.”

Bucky nearly shut his eyes in relief. Steve wanted him – wanted this. But then he remembered the hurt, the _rejection_, and his defenses emerged. “You want to fuck me?” He asked, using his sultry voice so many of his clients loved.

Steve’s brow furrowed and he frowned. “Enough, Bucky,” he said in a firm voice Bucky had never heard before. “I don’t want you to talk to me like one of your clients.”

Anger flared up within him and Bucky smacked Steve’s hand away. “Then what do you want?”

Steve only smiled at him then, but it was a soft smile, an affectionate one. Bucky felt so much anger but… he felt hopeful too. Steve gently reached up and touched Bucky’s hair, running his fingers through the length of it and Bucky sighed.

He wanted to trust Steve but he was terrified. So many things had happened, so much time had passed.

“Bucky,” Steve breathed when his mouth was close enough to Bucky’s ear. “I need you to tell me what _you_ want.” Bucky gasped, shocked at the shift in Steve. When he had approached Bucky the other night, he’d been almost aggressive in his approach. “Can you do that for me?” He asked in a gentle voice.

Bucky bit his lip, feeling wholly uncertain. He remembered, with horrible clarity, the night he had kissed Steve all those years ago. It was just after Steve’s seventeenth birthday and Bucky had been packed and ready to move to Indiana.

He remembered the humiliation and rejection.

But he also remembered all that Steve had done for him, to keep him safe, and protect him from Pierce. Aside from that, though, Bucky knew that Steve was growing, _learning_ from his mistakes, and this moment proved it.

Bucky pressed both hands against Steve’s chest, but made no move to push him away. It wasn’t for that – it was for Bucky to hold onto. He felt a little lightheaded and a heavy anxiety still filled him. Steve could have no idea what Bucky truly needed and, once he learned, Bucky was sure he would disappear.

_Better now than later_, he thought to himself.

When Steve started to pull away, Bucky quickly took hold of his wrist. Taking a deep breath, Bucky brought Steve’s hand up to his throat and pressed it there. He let go, expecting Steve to jerk away like he’d done all those years ago.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Steve’s grip became stronger, more certain. “Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Steve rasped. The blue in his eyes had almost completely disappeared; like in Bucky’s apartment, Steve seemed to grow and take up more space, yet he maintained a gentle hold. “You can tell me. You can say it.”

Bucky _wanted_ to, he _did_, but something was holding him back. He trembled and opened his mouth, trying to speak, but nothing came out. Then, Steve’s grip tightened just a bit. A tease – a promise of what could be.

“Can you tell me, sweetheart?” Steve breathed and Bucky moaned, loudly.

He wanted it, wanted _Steve_, more than he had ever wanted anything or anyone, but he was terrified. Everything could go wrong and Steve might leave him, might be disgusted by him, might _discard_ him. His lips trembled and, when he looked up, he knew Steve could see all of it.

“I’ll give you _everything_ you ask for, baby boy,” he promised. “Anything you want, I’ll do it.” Bucky couldn’t deny the sincerity in Steve’s voice, in his eyes. “Tell me,” he went on, low and dark, “what do you want?”

Something snapped inside Bucky and the fear and trepidation all but disappeared. A fissure appeared in the walls surrounding his heart and it only grew larger the more Steve spoke.

He wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders, stood up on his toes, and pulled Steve closer. A new certainty had bloomed in him: he knew Steve wouldn’t kiss him, wouldn’t do anything, until he heard Bucky say the words. Bucky could trust him, could _let go_ and still be certain that Steve would take care of him.

He stood up taller, bringing their mouths as close as he could before Steve stopped him. He paused there and held Steve’s gaze, whispering, “A Daddy.”

There was no pause or moment of hesitation before Steve pulled Bucky into a deep kiss. His hand kept a possessive hold on the back of Bucky’s head and he pushed his leg between Bucky’s thighs. It pressed dangerously close to Bucky’s dick and, for the first time, he realized he was hard and straining in his jeans.

He released a moan when Steve shifted himself. “Oh sweetheart,” he murmured, “I’m so proud of you for telling me.” Bucky tried to answer but couldn’t. Instead, he simply allowed himself to grind against Steve’s thigh while Steve watched with a satisfied smile. “You like Daddy pressed against you?”

With barely anything beyond mild petting, Bucky was already panting, desperate for more, for _anything_. “Please,” he gasped, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Please.”

“Okay, baby,” he reassured, “you need Daddy to touch you?”

Bucky didn’t trust his voice yet, not when something he’d so fiercely desired was finally, _finally_ being given to him. Not just _Steve_, the man he’d loved all those years ago, but someone who _truly _wanted to take care of him. While he loved his work, it was sometimes so taxing to be the one to take care of other people all the time, to be the one giving and giving. The way that Steve touched him and checked in with him, the way he was in perfect control of himself, it was _everything _Bucky had wanted.

He bit his lip and nodded, knowing his eyes were wide as he stared up at Steve. Moving closer, Steve blocked Bucky from view of the dancers – both a protective and a possessive action.

He kept his hand on Bucky’s throat while his other hand slipped down Bucky’s body – his collarbone and chest, paying attention to his pierced nipple, and then continuing down his abdomen to his dick. Bucky gasped and gripped Steve’s shirt, feeling boneless. Steve moved his hand from Bucky’s throat to the back of his head, helping to steady him, and also keeping him from hitting the wall.

“You’ve needed this?” Steve rasped against Bucky’s ear. He began rubbing Bucky through his jeans and Bucky’s hips pushed into the touch. “No one gave this to you, sweetheart?”

Bucky’s voice came out of him in a rush. “No.” He tightened his grip on the fabric and let himself grind against Steve’s thigh and his hand. “N-no one.”

Steve grinned, pressing small kisses against Bucky’s neck. “You’re _my_ baby boy?” He asked in a quiet voice.

Bucky nodded his head, breathing in sharply. “Y-yes, ’m yours.” Steve moved his hand faster and Bucky realized he was going to come. He was going to come in his pants. “D-Daddy, I – I –”

“You’re close, aren’t you? So close for your Daddy.”

“Uhn, Daddy –”

“Shhh, baby boy,” Steve murmured. “Will you do it for Daddy? Come for me?”

Blood was rushing in Bucky’s ears and there was a tight coiling in his abdomen. If he had the ability to think, he would have been questioning why an escort with the stamina to fuck for hours without coming once – or at all, depending on his client’s desires – was so close after just a little heavy petting.

His mind was unable to consider any of that and was, instead, turning mushy. He felt fuzzy and light, like nothing could go wrong. He began to moan louder and Steve swooped in, kissing him while his hand worked Bucky over the precipice with precision. It was as if they’d been doing this for years.

When Bucky came, his knees went weak but he continued to rock his hips against Steve’s hand while his orgasm pulsed through him.

“D-Daddy,” he gasped against Steve’s lips.

“Mmm, baby boy,” Steve groaned, gentling his touch though not pulling away. “That was incredible. Thank you.”

Bucky hid his face in Steve’s chest while he caught his breath. The sticky mess in his pants would need to be taken care of soon but that was a minor concern. Nodding his head, he reached down to touch Steve too, but a firm hand grabbed his wrist.

Bucky’s stomach sank and he bit his lip, trying to ignore the terrible feeling inside him – the _dirty_ feeling.

A painful thought repeated itself in his mind: _Steve doesn’t want m__y hands on him_.

He yanked his hand away and tried to move but Steve’s arm came up, catching him around the waist. “No, sweetheart,” he purred, pressing sweet kisses to Bucky’s cheek, “don’t misunderstand. I wanna fuck you so bad.”

Bucky sighed in relief and leaned into Steve, relaxing a bit. He could feel Steve _shiver_ at the thought of fucking him and Steve’s excitement thrilled him.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you, but I won’t do that here.”

Bucky met Steve’s heated gaze. “Come home with me? Please?”

Nodding his head, Steve rumbled, “I’ll meet you there. I need to run to mine first.”

“But –”

“I’ll be there as fast as I can, sweetheart,” he promised. “Okay?”

Bucky bit his lip and nodded. “Okay.” As he was about to walk away, he turned and pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips. “Don’t be long, Daddy.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered at the word. “Nothing’ll keep me from you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! ;D I hope you're enjoying the fic as much as I am!


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahem... ;)

Bucky arrived home in record time, mindless of the chafing discomfort of dried come in his pants. He yanked them off and put them in the washer to soak, then hopped in the shower. Scrubbing the sweat and other fluids from his skin felt amazing in the hot water. He made sure to thoroughly clean himself, unsure of whether Steve would…

_I__f he even show__s_, a cruel voice whispered to him.

Standing beneath the spray, Bucky tried to drown those thoughts out but, once he was drying himself off, they were harder to ignore. He tied the smooth robe around himself, then put condoms and lube on his bedside table. His fears that Steve would stand him up, that he had no intention of showing at all, dissipated the moment he heard the knocking.

He opened the door and swallowed around a dry throat. Steve was there – he _came._

_Of course he did_.

He’d changed his clothes and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone, while his normally sleek hair was tousled. His eyes were dark as they took in Bucky’s body clad only in his satin robe, and it was becoming harder and harder for Bucky to breathe.

He stepped back, allowing Steve to enter before letting the door shut. It hadn’t even clicked when Steve pushed him back against the wall, kissing him hard. Bucky moaned and wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck.

Without preamble, Steve gripped Bucky’s thighs and lifted him up, carrying him through the apartment. A moment later, Bucky was lying on his bed and Steve was gently untying his robe. The satin fabric fell open, revealing Bucky’s naked body to Steve for the first time.

He gulped. “You’re so beautiful.”

The earnestness in his voice caught Bucky off guard and he shivered. “I’m all yours.”

“You are, aren’t you,” Steve breathed, as if the idea had never once crossed his mind. Slowly, he lowered himself between Bucky’s open thighs and replied, “And I’m yours.”

Bucky smiled and reached up. “Can I… undress you, Daddy?”

Steve beamed. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

Without hesitation, Bucky began working on the buttons of Steve’s shirt; in his haste, he almost ripped a couple of them but it didn’t matter. It was only a moment before Steve’s glorious chest was exposed and Bucky pressed open mouthed kisses along his collarbone, the defined lines of his muscles, and then over his left nipple.

Steve gasped and pressed a hand to the back of Bucky’s head, holding him there. Bucky had no problem staying in that exact spot for hours if Steve wanted.

That hand on his head began pulling him across to the other side, though, and Bucky obliged happily. He licked and sucked, even used his teeth until Steve was gasping and moaning. Before he had finished unbuttoning the shirt, Steve yanked it over his head and tossed it across the room.

He pushed Bucky onto his back and whispered, “Can you tell me if this is okay?”

Bucky nodded and licked along his top lip. “It’s so good, Daddy. Please, keep going.”

Steve waited for a moment, watching Bucky’s face, then he attacked Bucky’s neck and shoulders. He sucked and bit, kissed and licked, and Bucky could do nothing but hiss and moan. Steve was leaving marks and Bucky knew he should stop him but he didn’t _want to_. If Steve needed to do this to prove that Bucky was his, then Bucky needed it too.

Digging his hands in Steve’s hair, Bucky tugged him up to kiss him again. He wrapped his bare legs around Steve’s clothed hips and tried to arch against him but Steve held him down. Pulling away, Steve slipped off the bed and fought to get his pants off, while Bucky sat up on his elbows to watch.

When Steve’s boxers hit the floor, Bucky groaned. Steve was huge and Bucky could _not_ wait to feel it inside him. He reached his hand out and Steve crawled onto the bed but he didn’t lie down between Bucky’s legs again. Instead, he rolled Bucky onto his belly and tugged his hips until his ass was in the air.

“Check in with me, sweetheart,” Steve murmured. “Is this okay?”

Bucky nodded. “Yes, yes, Daddy, it’s good. Please, keep going.”

Bucky gripped the blanket and allowed Steve to spread his legs wider. There was a moment of charged silence before he felt hot breath on his flesh, followed by Steve’s tongue. He licked from the top of Bucky’s cleft to his balls, slowly and thoroughly, and by the time he moved to repeat the action, Bucky was _shaking_.

Steve kept that up for nearly an entire minute before Bucky was on the verge of crying. He’d never needed to be fucked so bad _in his life_.

“St-Steve, please, p-please,” he tried but couldn’t get the words out.

“What do you need, baby boy?” Steve whispered in a filthy voice.

Bucky released a sobbing breath and buried his face in the bedding. “Daddy,” he whined into it.

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised. “Anything you want, I’ll do. Anything.”

Bucky nodded his head. “I-I know, I’m – it’s so much.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Steve cooed, rubbing Bucky’s back gently. “Is it okay if I continue?”

Bucky nodded and then cried out when Steve licked him again and again. After a few more moments, Bucky’s body felt like a live wire, like he was going to explode. He was so close to coming, on the precipice, but he needed more. His eyes were rolling back in his head and he was sure he’d pass out any moment.

Steve pulled away and Bucky wailed in desperation, but he stayed put and waited. This time, when something wet pressed against his ass, Bucky knew it wasn’t Steve’s mouth. He pressed back, trying to fuck himself on those fingers but Steve held him still.

“Oh Bucky,” Steve purred, “you need it bad, don’t you?” Bucky nodded his head but Steve still didn’t move. “Can you… can you ask me, sweetheart?” he whispered.

Bucky took a shaky breath and started babbling. “Please, Steve, will you please use your fingers? I need you so bad. Wanted you for so long, wanna be yours, Daddy, wanna be good for you, please let me, please, I know I can, I know it’ll be so good, just please –”

“You’re already so good for me. You need my fingers, baby?” He asked. “Or do you need something else?” Bucky was shaking all over and he sobbed into the bed. “Can you tell me?”

“N-need your cock, Daddy,” he breathed. “Need you inside me.”

Steve kissed his lower back. “Then I have to get you ready for me. I won’t hurt you.”

In one smooth motion, two fingers pressed inside him and deftly located his prostate. Bucky squeezed the blanket in his hands and moaned wantonly. His hips twitched and Steve pulled his fingers nearly all the way out. Bucky whined and spread his legs wider, begging for more.

“Please,” he whispered and bit down on a scream when he felt three fingers press inside him, angling for that spot. “Oh, God!”

“So good, sweetheart,” Steve praised as he rubbed Bucky into absolute madness. “You’re so amazing. I can’t believe you’re mine, baby boy, can’t believe I get to do this for you.”

Bucky gasped and came all over the bedding and his stomach. His whole body clenched up tight and then released all at once. The orgasm in the club was _nothing _compared to this one – it seemed to go on and on until all at once, it dissipated. Before he could collapse onto his own come, Steve lifted him and helped him lie on a clean spot. He kissed up Bucky’s spine, making him shiver all over.

“You want me now?” Steve rasped and Bucky nodded. “Can you tell me, sweetheart?”

“Want you,” Bucky slurred. “Please, want you inside me, Daddy.”

He felt Steve tremble at that and then heard him rip the condom open, followed by the click of the lube that he hadn’t heard the first time. Then, after a long second, he felt Steve’s dick pressing against him. He slipped once but _finally _he was inside and Bucky gasped, but Steve didn’t stop until he was fully sheathed in Bucky’s ass.

Once there, he released a pornographic groan that Bucky needed to hear again, and then he began pushing and pulling at Bucky’s body. He spread Bucky’s legs wider and tilted his hips, then took both of Bucky’s wrists and pressed them to the mattress above Bucky’s head.

Then, he lay down on his forearms and gripped Bucky’s hair, tilting his head to the side, making him cry out in pleasure. “Yes, please, Daddy, please pull my hair,” he rambled and Steve growled, tugging a little.

Steve hummed approvingly. “Keep telling me what you like, sweetheart.”

Bucky nodded as best he could. This position left him completely beneath and surrounded by Steve and at his mercy, but Bucky didn’t feel powerless. Behind him, Steve’s breathing was ragged as he pressed kisses to Bucky’s shoulders and neck, and the knowledge that Bucky was the cause… well, it was_ incredible_.

“How do you feel, sweetheart?” Steve asked, holding perfectly still as he waited for Bucky’s response.

Bucky felt overwhelmed with emotion that he hadn’t expected to feel. Not this soon. He sniffled and nodded his head. “I’m good, Daddy,” he moaned, “so good.”

He met Steve’s eyes over his shoulder, finding that, while Bucky was quickly slipping into his headspace, Steve had maintained his control. He wasn’t just fucking Bucky with wild abandon – he was taking his time. He was taking care of him.

“I’m ready,” Bucky whimpered and Steve’s face broke out into an affectionate smile.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he replied, then pulled out – not quite all the way, but nearly. The head of his cock stretched Bucky’s opening and he whined until Steve thrust back in again. “Fuck, you’re so good,” he groaned and Bucky tried to move but Steve simply rearranged his arms and body how he wanted them. “Just take it,” he growled. “Let me do this for you.”

Bucky’s eyes rolled back in his head. “Yes, Daddy, please,” he begged and Steve pulled out before slamming back inside again.

He repeated this over and over, gaining speed and momentum until Bucky was sure the backs of his thighs were bright red. Bucky’s cries grew louder and Steve rumbled, “You like it? Being full of Daddy like this?”

“Yes!” He blurted out and Steve continued fucking him into the mattress, murmuring praises into his skin.

“You’re my good boy, aren’t you? You like it when Daddy’s here, holding down? Fucking you just right?”

“_Yes_,” Bucky whimpered, clenching the sheets in his fists. His eyes were shut tight and each thrust was met with a desperate moan until he felt the telltale coiling in his abdomen. He had no idea when it happened, but he was hard again, pressed between his abdomen and the bed. “D-Daddy, ‘m gonna come, gonna come all over the bed,” he warned.

“You can, baby. Go on, make a mess for me,” Steve groaned. “You’re so good, sweetheart, doin’ so good.”

Bucky’s toes curled and the blood rushed in his ears. “G-gonna – oh God, oh, please, don’t stop, so close.”

“Never gonna stop, baby,” Steve promised in a harsh pant. “So, do it, come for me.”

Bucky gasped and shook furiously; he dug his knees into the mattress as his entire body contracted as his vision whited out. If his second orgasm had been intense, this one was _explosive. _His mouth was open but no sound came out, which allowed him to hear Steve’s groans behind him.

“Oh, fuck yeah, baby, so good for me, all mine.”

He continued to thrust hard and fast into Bucky’s hypersensitive body, chasing his own pleasure, but it felt good to be used that way. It didn’t feel like it did with a client, where his enjoyment meant nothing. This felt like Bucky was the only thing that could make Steve feel this way, could make him moan like that.

This felt powerful.

“Gonna come in you, Buck,” he moaned and Bucky turned his head to watch him fall apart. He was flushed and his brow was damp with sweat; his mouth was open and the tendons in his neck were pulled taut. “Gonna fill you up.”

“Come in me, Daddy,” Bucky breathed and Steve’s eyes widened as his orgasm burst through him.

“_Ohhh_, fuck, sweetheart,” he said before slamming into Bucky’s ass one last time, rolling his hips as he came, filling the condom. Both of his hands flew to Bucky’s hips as he ground against him, twitching and moaning, helplessly, through the aftershocks. “So good, baby boy,” he panted, leaning down and pressing more kisses to Bucky’s neck. “So fuckin’ good for me.”

Bucky gathered his hair and pulled it up to get it out of his face. He felt light and happy, completely content for the first time since the shooting. When Steve pulled out of him, he winced but the discomfort eased as Steve kissed him more.

He floated on the sensations for some time, but he must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, Steve was gently shaking him. “Let’s get cleaned up, sweetheart,” Steve suggested. “I ran you a bath.”

“You didn’t have to,” Bucky slurred but Steve shook his head.

“Let me take care of you, Buck,” he requested. “When was the last time you let someone do that for you?”

Bucky swallowed, feeling more awake. “I… don’t know.”

Steve smiled. “Then that’s what I’ll do.”

With Steve's help, he got up from the bed and made his way into the bathroom. Steam rose up from the hot water and Bucky sighed. “Here,” Steve said, slowly helping Bucky ease into the water. “Be right back,” he said. “Gonna clean up.”

Bucky nodded and lay back in the tub, feeling his muscles relax. He heard Steve moving around, collecting the soiled bedding and taking it out of the bedroom. A door was opened and shut, suggesting that Steve was searching for more sheets and blankets, followed by the rustling of the bed being remade. There was silence for a time before he heard the bathroom door open again.

Steve was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Can I wash your hair, sweetheart?”

Bucky looked up at him, biting his lip. When was the last time anyone had offered to do these things? When was the last time someone had run him a bath or _asked his permission_? Bucky truly loved his job; he loved satisfying his clients, but there was something to be said for this. He felt special and cared for, protected, and safe.

“Yes, please,” he whispered. Steve held still, holding Bucky’s gaze for a long moment before Bucky realized what he was waiting for. “Oh,” he breathed, smiling, “Daddy.”

Steve knelt at the side of the tub and gently placed Bucky’s head back against the edge. Using a small cup, Steve poured water over Bucky’s hair and then grabbed a bottle from the shelf. Bucky didn’t catch the label but when Steve popped the cap, the subtle, minty smell of his favorite shampoo hit him and he smiled.

Steve’s fingers massaged Bucky’s scalp for several minutes, chasing away what felt like years of tension. Before Bucky knew it, his entire body felt relaxed and limp, which was a sensation he had not experienced with another person in _years_. With clients, he had to be on and alert at all times, ready to jump when they called.

But with Steve, he was beginning to realize that he could just… let go, because Steve would take care of him.

“Sweetheart,” Steve murmured, “let me rinse your hair, okay? I need you to sit up and I can use the hose.”

He nodded and leaned forward while Steve stood up to reach for it. He checked the water before he even brought it close to Bucky, ensuring it was neither too hot nor too cold, and then he began gently pouring it over Bucky’s head. He kept the water from draining into Bucky’s eyes as he continued to massage it through to his ends.

Once it was clean, Steve applied conditioner as well and let it sit for a moment before he rinsed it too. Afterward, he placed a wet hand on Bucky’s shoulder and Bucky turned his face, sighing as he rested his cheek on Steve’s knuckles.

“Will you get in with me?”

Steve smiled. “Would you like me to?”

“Uh huh.” Bucky moved forward in the tub to allow Steve to step in behind him. After a few moments of adjustment, Bucky laid back against Steve’s chest and let his head rest on Steve’s shoulder. “This is amazing, Daddy,” he whispered, hearing the hitch in Steve’s breathing. “Thank you.”

“How are you feeling?” Steve asked.

“So good, Daddy,” Bucky answered.

Steve kept his hands on either side of the tub and held himself still while Bucky got comfortable. “Where is it okay for me to touch you?” He asked.

“Anywhere, Daddy,” Bucky assured. “Please, touch me.”

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s chest and across his shoulders and buried his face in Bucky’s neck. It was incredibly intimate and tender, feeling Steve hold him so close. He swallowed and turned his head, seeking out Steve’s lips. The kiss was soft and tender but still passionate, just as the sex had been.

He had never felt this way before. He’d wanted it for so long but… If he was honest with himself, he was glad that it was Steve.

It still hurt to think about the past; they would still need to talk about that, he knew. But it would wait.

“Where did you go? Before you came over?” Bucky asked, feeling suddenly curious.

Steve flashed a crooked smile. “I hadn’t showered since yesterday and I needed to change my clothes.” Rubbing his forehead, he went on, “Plus, I smelled like stale booze from all the guys rubbing up on me.”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, I had to shower too, though… not _just_ because of that.” Steve’s eyes darkened a little and Bucky chewed on his lip for a moment. “Were you… jealous tonight?”

Steve swallowed. “Yeah, Buck,” he rasped, “I was. I couldn’t help it. All those guys, they wanted you and had their hands on you. I was fine, though,” he defended, “until he kissed you.” Bucky adjusted, turning so he could see Steve’s face more clearly. “I hoped you weren’t going to sock me or something but I couldn’t just _stand there_ and watch.” Leaning forward, Steve pressed a kiss to Bucky’s forehead before adding, “Not anymore.”

Shooting forward, Bucky pulled Steve into a kiss, immediately opening his mouth to allow Steve’s tongue to push inside. It was so incredibly _erotic_ to know that Steve had been so affected by Bucky, by what had happened, that he couldn’t stop himself from stepping in.

It was also exciting to know that Steve had regained his self control and held onto it in every moment that followed – that he’d waited for Bucky to consent before doing anything more.

“Buck, I...” Steve began, interrupting Bucky’s thoughts. “I know something is going on, something _big_. You’re in danger.” Bucky swallowed but didn’t respond yet. “I want you to know that I’m going to do whatever I have to do.” Turning his head, Bucky looked up at Steve’s face. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Bucky nodded and adjusted his body so he could meet Steve’s lips in another kiss. It wasn’t like their previous ones – this one was slow and intimate. “I trust you, Steve,” he whispered, lying back against Steve’s body. “I need you to know that.”

Nodding, Steve answered, “I do, Buck.” He pressed his lips to Bucky’s hair and continued, “I know what you’re giving me is precious and I’m going to do everything I can to _earn_ it.” Bucky met his eyes. “Every day, I’m going to earn it.”

Bucky knew that Steve wasn’t just talking about the shooting or Pierce; he was talking about what had happened between them all those years earlier. It would do no good to try and discuss it right then, considering how deep Bucky was into his headspace, but Steve was acknowledging that they needed to talk about it.

But it was not the time.

“I know you will, Steve,” Bucky answered, then shifted down to rest against him more.

With each rise and fall of Steve’s chest, Bucky was lulled deeper and deeper into relaxation. His body felt alive but his mind was fuzzy. He knew it was still early – at least for him, but since the shooting, he couldn’t really sleep at night. He would only toss and turn, finally slipping into restless exhaustion after hours of startling at small sounds, or waking from horrifying nightmares.

But, for once, he felt safe and sleep came easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you all think? :D


	16. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this chapter is just more of the same... which is absolutely not a bad thing. ;D  
It starts with Bucky feeling a little insecure but Steve shows him that it's okay and he really does want him.  
I hope you enjoy!

Steve opened his eyes to a warm light streaming through the curtains. For a moment, he wasn’t sure where he was, but then he felt the warm body next to him and rolled over. Bucky was asleep – he was lying on his side, facing away from Steve, snoring quietly. His hair was spread across the pillow, wild and loose.

For the first time, Steve was able to get a good look at the tattoo on Bucky’s back. A phoenix inked in deep black. It spread across his shoulders as if it’d taken off in flight. On his left bicep, Steve could clearly see the second one – a red star painted over what looked like metal plates.

He traced it, idly, and wondered what it meant.

Bucky shivered under his touch and turned slightly, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Morning, sweetheart,” Steve murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to Bucky’s shoulder. “How do you feel?”

Bucky bit his lip and nodded his head. “Good… Daddy.” There was heat in his gaze but also something else – uncertainty.

Bucky still wasn’t convinced that this was real. Steve couldn’t have that.

“Did Daddy make you feel good last night, sweetheart?” He rumbled, cuddling in closer behind Bucky, pressing his erection against Bucky’s ass.

Gasping, Bucky breathed, “Yes, God, yes, Daddy.”

Steve’s hand slowly trailing along Bucky’s arm, down his hip, before pausing. “Can I touch you more, or are you sore?”

“Not sore, Daddy,” he answered. “You took such good care of me.”

That admission made Steve shiver. That was all he wanted – to take care of Bucky. Remembering what they’d done had Steve’s face burning, but not as much as his desire. The memory of how Bucky felt around him, under him, made his already hard dick twitch.

“Do you want Daddy to fuck you again, baby boy?” Bucky pressed his hips backward, grinding against Steve. “You want me inside you?”

“Please,” Bucky gasped.

“Can you roll over for me?” Steve whispered. “Wanna see you this time.” Bucky didn’t hesitate; he flipped onto his back just as Steve had asked. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.” Steve took a moment to admire the large tattoo on Bucky’s chest – a white wolf. “How long have you had these tattoos?” He asked, running his fingertips over the details, causing Bucky’s skin to break out in goosebumps.

“A f-few years,” Bucky answered. “That one’s the oldest.”

Steve leaned down and ran his tongue along it. “And your piercing?” He asked, touching Bucky’s pierced nipple gently.

“Ah! Ah, um, two years ago.”

Steve glanced over and found that Bucky’s hands were digging into the blanket and his knuckles were turning white. “Sweetheart,” Steve began, “do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Bucky exclaimed, eyes wide and desperate. “No, Daddy, please, I’ll be good.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “You _are_ good, Buck. You’re doing so well.”

“Th-then why?” Bucky asked.

“Because you’re holding on for dear life,” Steve murmured, touching Bucky’s wrists. “Can you hold onto _me_, baby boy?”

Nodding, Bucky released his grip and, instead, placed his hands on Steve’s shoulders. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Thank you,” Steve said. “You’re my good boy.”

Bucky smiled, biting his lip as he did. Steve leaned down, capturing Bucky’s mouth in a kiss. Bucky moaned, pressing up into Steve’s embrace and trying to pull him nearer. “Daddy,” he breathed, “want you. Please, can I have you?”

Steve threaded his fingers through Bucky’s hair and turned his head to deepen the kiss. The sounds pouring from Bucky were driving Steve crazy but he never wanted them to stop. Bucky’s entire body was incredible and Steve couldn’t wait to explore every inch of it.

“You already have me, sweetheart,” he promised. “I’m gonna take care of you. Do you want that?”

Bucky licked his lips, nodding his head. “Yeah, Daddy,” he whimpered, “I really, really do.”

Something about that sound - the tone, the desperation, the sheer _need_ \- made Steve’s blood pump faster. He fucking _loved_ when Bucky sounded like that.

Without another word, Steve sat back and pushed both of Bucky’s thighs against his abdomen, exposing his ass. Steve looked over his body, licking his lips as his eyes wandered. Bucky’s ass was a little red but didn’t look sore or swollen, which Steve was grateful for. He knew that Bucky had told him he felt fine and he trusted that Bucky wouldn’t lie about that. However, it relieved a small knot of tension when he could _see_ that Bucky was okay.

“Fuck, baby boy,” he rumbled, “I wanna eat this hole _out_.”

Bucky released a sobbing breath. “Daddy!”

Steve didn’t make him wait anymore. He slid down the bed and began by placing a soft kiss to Bucky’s perineum, followed by a lingering suck that had Bucky arching against him. While he wasn’t teasing, he certainly wasn’t rushing. In fact, he was taking his sweet time, enjoying Bucky – his moans, the way he shook, the way his grip moved from Steve’s hair to the bed, then back again.

Steve was drunk on Bucky but maintained strict control of himself. Bucky needed him to be sweet, caring, and gentle and that was all Steve wanted to be. He knew that they may come to a point where he could be a bit more rash, maybe push it further, but they’d need to talk that over first.

He needed to know that Bucky felt safe and comfortable with everything they did.

At that moment, Bucky started mumbling and Steve couldn’t quite catch all of it, but he knew he heard, “So good… can’t believe… close… not enough… more… please.”

Steve groaned and doubled down on his efforts, bringing one hand up to wrap around Bucky’s leaking dick. That seemed to be all he’d needed because he went still for a moment, then cried out as he came across his abdomen.

Gently, Steve worked him through it, only pulling away when Bucky hissed at the oversensitivity. However, when Steve sat up, Bucky frowned at him. “Don’t stop,” he whispered. “I want you.”

Steve ran his hands up Bucky’s thighs. “I thought I’d give you a moment. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“No, Daddy,” Bucky pleaded, “I won’t be. It’s so good. I don’t… I don’t get to… finish with a lot of my clients.” A fire erupted in Steve’s gut and he bit his lip, staring into Bucky’s eyes as he spoke. “You make me feel so good.”

Steve felt ten feet tall at that. “Daddy’s gonna make you come as many times as you want to,” he promised. “I won’t ever deny you. I’ll always give you what you ask for.” Steve leaned over to the bedside table and grabbed the lube that had been left there the night before. “I’ll always take care of you,” he said, sitting back on his knees between Bucky’s legs.

“I – I want you to,” Bucky whispered and Steve looked up, meeting his eyes.

“I promise,” Steve said, leaning down and catching Bucky’s lips in a kiss. “Can you tell me what you want?”

Bucky bit his bottom lip and nodded. “W-will you finger me open, Daddy? So you can fuck me?”

Steve had never heard anything so sexy in his entire life. He groaned and nodded. “Anything you want, sweetheart.” He drizzled the lube over his fingers and slicked them up well. Before doing anything else, he touched Bucky’s knee with his clean hand. “Can you lift your leg for me?”

Bucky tucked both hands behind his knees and drew his legs up in a very enticing display. “Please, Daddy,” he pleaded and Steve nodded.

Instead of speaking, he brought his fingers down to circle the furled muscle of Bucky’s ass. He gasped but it turned into a groan when Steve gently pressed one finger inside him. He took it slower than he had the night before – not only because he didn’t want to hurt Bucky, but also because his head was clearer than it had been. When he’d first arrived at Bucky’s apartment, he’d been overtaken by _desire_ and _need_; he knew he hadn’t hurt Bucky but this time, he wanted to take his time.

He wanted to find exactly what made Bucky twitch and moan, what made his breath come faster, and what made him cry out. “If your arms get tired,” Steve rasped, “rest your feet against my shoulders.”

Bucky opened his mouth to speak but released a deep, desperate moan instead as Steve located his prostate and began massaging it gently. His back arched and he let out soft, sweet sounds that made Steve’s head spin. The only thing that he could think about was how much pleasure he was giving Bucky – how his eyes were shut and his mouth was open; the tendons in his neck strained as he threw his head back.

“Uhn, _Daddy_,” Bucky whined and Steve hushed him.

“Let Daddy make you feel good,” he whispered. “Please? I love seeing you like this, Buck. You look so beautiful.”

Bucky bit his lip so hard, Steve saw it turn white, but he nodded his head. “I’ll wait,” he promised. “I’ll be p-patient.”

It wasn’t long after that Bucky’s hands slipped from behind his knees, releasing his legs to rest against Steve’s shoulders. He covered his face, muffling his cries as Steve relentlessly pleasured him. “Let me see you?” Steve asked but Bucky didn’t move them. “Do you want another finger, sweetheart?”

Bucky sobbed behind his hands. “_Please_,” he begged. “Please, Daddy, please.”

Steve nodded, pressing kisses to Bucky’s ankle as he slowly and carefully pressed a second finger inside Bucky’s willing body. “Look so beautiful like this,” Steve murmured. “Daddy loves making you feel good, you know that? All I wanna do is make you feel good.”

Bucky shuddered, finally dropping one hand to the bed, gripping the blanket. The other felt around until it located Steve’s, then he threaded their fingers together in a sweet gesture that made Steve’s heart clench. His brows were furrowed and his jaw was slack; he continued releasing the most intoxicating sounds, and Steve could tell he was getting close.

At that moment, Steve realized how badly he wanted to see it – to see Bucky fall apart because of him. He didn’t know if Bucky would want to have sex after he came but Steve was alright with that. Grinning, he moved a little faster, just a little harder.

The sound Bucky made was delicious and Steve wanted to hear it over and over again. He glanced down and found that Bucky’s knuckles had turned white.

“Hold onto me,” Steve rasped. “With your other hand, baby, hold onto me.” Nodding, Bucky released the fabric and gripped Steve’s thigh, while pushing against his shoulders with his legs, just slightly. “You’re so beautiful,” Steve whispered, though mostly to himself. “Jesus.”

“_Daddy,_” Bucky moaned. “More, please.”

Steve nodded his head and slowly slipped a third finger inside him, alongside the others. Bucky’s eyes were hooded as he stared at Steve, dazedly; his breathing had sped up significantly and his chest was flushed. Steve wanted to memorize every minute detail, to lock it up in his mind and never lose it.

“You gonna come?” Steve asked, watching as Bucky’s dick drooled pre-come onto his belly. “Gonna come for Daddy?”

Bucky nodded his head but Steve froze when he saw tears forming in Bucky’s eyes. “_No_, Daddy, please,” Bucky cried, trying to rock himself onto Steve’s fingers. “Don’t stop!”

“Am I hurting you?” Steve demanded.

Shaking his head, Bucky panted, “No, it’s so good. Just a l-little o-overwhelmed, I promise. I’m so close, Daddy, don’t stop!”

Steve hesitated for another moment before he continued, “Is it too much?” Steve knew that Bucky wasn’t tell him the whole truth, but he trusted that Bucky would stop him if he needed to.

He shook his head emphatically and Steve began moving his fingers and hand in earnest, even getting his entire arm into the motion. Just then, Bucky dug his nails into Steve’s skin and sobbed. “C-can I come? Please?”

“Come whenever you want, sweetheart,” Steve assured.

Bucky’s entire body tensed and he stopped breathing; his eyes rolled back into his head and he shivered. His mouth opened as he came across his abdomen, each burst accompanying another shuddering breath. When he finally made a sound, it was everything Steve wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

He gulped at that thought but didn’t stop moving his hand until Bucky began to squirm. “_Uhn, uhn, _Daddy, please.”

Steve let his fingers slip free slowly, watching Bucky’s expression for any signs of discomfort. He found none and located one of the towels they’d used the night before to wipe his hand off, then he gently cleaned Bucky’s stomach and chest.

Through it all, Bucky lay there, panting and twitching – completely blissful. The knowledge that he had done this for Bucky – that he had made him feel this way – it made Steve swell with pride. It was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life and that knowledge made his throat tighten.

He wasn’t ready to examine these thoughts yet, so he shook them off and began to pull away. Bucky made an indignant noise and, when Steve looked down, he found Bucky’s wide eyes on him. “Daddy, where are you going?” Not knowing what to say, Steve bit his lip; Bucky frowned. “You don’t… want to fuck me?”

A fire roared to life inside Steve’s chest. “I do – I do, baby, I want to fuck you so bad but I don’t want to hurt you. You might be too sensitive after all that.” Bucky’s lip trembled and Steve gasped. “Sweet boy,” he murmured. “Do you want Daddy to fuck you? You just came so hard for me and I can wait.”

“Don’t want you to wait, Daddy,” Bucky whimpered. “Want you to fuck me.”

Steve shivered and nodded his head before leaning over to the drawer again. He tore the condom wrapper open and rolled it on, then stroked more lube over himself. Having gone for so long without so much as acknowledging his erection, Steve couldn’t help the quiet moan he released, but Bucky seemed to appreciate it.

“Daddy,” he breathed, “don’t tease.”

Steve met Bucky’s eyes and shook his head. “Never,” he rasped as he scooted forward and pressed the head of his dick against Bucky’s ass.

When the tip popped inside, Steve gasped and Bucky released a relieved sigh. “Thank you,” he breathed. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Steve didn’t think he’d ever been more turned on than when Bucky said that. “You’re welcome, baby boy,” he replied as he thrust all the way inside until his pelvis was flush with Bucky’s ass.

He slipped his arms under Bucky’s legs, pressing the backs of his knees into the crook of Steve’s elbows. Then, he leaned forward, spreading Bucky wider, and basked in the tight, warm clutch of his body.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You feel so good, sweetheart.”

Bucky arched his back. “Wanna be good for you,” he moaned.

Steve leaned down and kissed him, groaning as Bucky’s body only seemed to open up more for him. “Y-you are,” he rasped. “You are good for me.”

Bucky moaned into the kiss, opening his mouth to let Steve’s tongue in, and responding in kind. When Steve pulled out a bit, then thrust back in, Bucky’s arms wound themselves around his shoulders and his hands held on tight. Steve didn’t break the kiss until he began to move so fast and hard, he had to pull away.

Bucky dug his hands in Steve’s hair and cried out at the new angle. Steve’s whole body was on fire, responding to every sound Bucky made, and only wanting more. “You’re so good,” Steve repeated in a breathless voice and Bucky’s grip tightened.

“Daddy,” he whined and Steve buried his face in Bucky’s neck.

He continued murmuring praises, not knowing if Bucky could hear them or not. “So perfect, sweetheart, so good for me. Never felt so good, wanna stay here forever.”

“Want you to,” Bucky replied, startling Steve. “Stay here, inside me.”

Steve shivered and began thrusting faster, making Bucky cry out. When he glanced down, he found that Bucky was hard again and he groaned. “Wanna make you come again,” he rasped. “Can I? Please, sweetheart, _please_.”

“_Daddy_,” Bucky cried, then began chanting, “Please, please, please.”

Steve accepted it without another question. Adjusting them slightly so he could reach down and wrap his hand around Bucky’s erection, Steve began stroking him in time with his thrusts. It took less than a dozen before Bucky came again, sobbing through it and pulling Steve right along with him.

His own moans were desperate, punched out of him by the intensity of his orgasm. He slammed his hips against Bucky’s ass, pressing him into the mattress in a firm hold that only made Bucky whimper.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Bucky uttered. “That was amazing.”

Steve pressed gentle, chaste kisses to Bucky’s neck, his cheeks, forehead, and then his lips. They were both sweaty and panting, and Steve _knew _his hair was a mess from Bucky’s grip, but he didn’t care one bit.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Steve murmured. When he opened his eyes again, he found Bucky’s trained on him. “What is it?”

Bucky hesitated for a moment before he finally asked, “Do you – do you have to go now?”

Frowning, Steve shook his head. “No, I… I didn’t plan on going anywhere.”

Steve recognized relief in Bucky’s expression before he concealed it. The facade that Bucky put up for the world was something that Steve knew he’d need to be patient about. It was how Bucky had protected himself for so long.

“We could make brunch,” Bucky suggested quietly, “if you eat that sort of thing.”

Steve laughed and nodded his head. “Can I cook for you? I’d love to do that.” Bucky looked unsure, searching Steve’s face. “I won’t offer to do anything I don’t want to,” he promised. “Don’t worry about that.” He pressed a kiss to Bucky’s nose, making him giggle. “Would you like to shower together or separately?”

Bucky smiled. “Together?”

Steve nodded his head. “Anything you want, sweetheart. Anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think?


	17. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!  
This chapter features some heavy topics that have been mentioned previously. It also features more communication between our boys, which is always important.  
I commissioned some art so check back for it!  
Thanks for your patience with this update! <3

Seated at the island, Bucky watched as Steve worked in the kitchen. The most mouthwatering smells filled the air as Steve chopped vegetables, fried eggs and hashbrowns, and then cooked the sausage. He was cooking some kind of breakfast scramble which was pretty impressive, considering the state of Bucky’s kitchen.

He loved to cook for himself but was still shocked to learn he had everything Steve needed to craft such a meal.

After their shower, Bucky had changed into a pair of comfortable sweats and a t-shirt – a far cry from his usual form-fitting attire. Steve, however, appeared quite pleased. He’d borrowed a pair of Bucky’s pajama bottoms but wore no shirt, which left Bucky simultaneously happy and irritated.

He loved staring, seeing those large muscles move beneath the skin but he _also_ wanted to feel them, to press his mouth to them, and kiss those freckles –

“You okay?” Steve asked, grinning.

“Um, yeah, yep, fine.” He gulped. “Why?”

Steve set the spatula down and walked over, leaning across the island. “I like it when you do that,” he breathed, scooting closer as he spoke. “It’s flattering”

“Do what?” Bucky asked, licking his lips as Steve watched.

“You look at me like you wanna eat me up,” Steve whispered. They were so close that Bucky felt Steve’s breath on his lips. “I like it,” he went on, “knowing how much you want me.”

Bucky inched closer, eyeing Steve’s body with undisguised lust. “I do want you.”

Steve smiled. “Yeah?” At Bucky’s nod, Steve added, “I want you too.”

In the next second, he lunged forward, capturing Bucky’s mouth in a heated kiss. Bucky lost himself in it, in the feel of Steve’s mouth and body as he was finally able to reach it. He ran his fingers over those shoulders and biceps, his back, into his damp hair, before Steve pulled away. He spun around and continued cooking while Bucky caught his breath.

“No fair,” Bucky gasped.

“Yeah?” Steve replied, glancing over his shoulder with a wry smile. “Are you hungry too, or just thirsty?” He chuckled at his own play on words and Bucky groaned.

“Oh, my God. Do you accept constructive criticism on your flirtation?”

“Nope,” Steve answered. “It’s almost ready.”

Bucky sighed and stood up, walking around the island to get the plates from the cupboard. They had each had an espresso already, so Bucky poured each of them a glass of orange juice. Steve served their food and they each took a seat next to one another.

Taking his first bite, Bucky hummed. “This is amazing.”After a while, Bucky glanced over to find that Steve was looking up and away with an oddly vacant expression. He reached up to touch Steve’s cheek, whispering, “You okay?”

Steve nodded, turning and pressing fully into Bucky’s palm. “Yeah, just…” He smiled and ran his fingers over Bucky’s shoulders and neck, up to his cheeks, before tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “I never thought we’d get here.”

Bucky bit his lip. “Me neither.” Taking a deep breath, he asked, “Have you… done this before?”

Steve shook his head. “I tried but… no. I know it’s not for everyone.” He met Bucky’s gaze and hesitated before asking, “Have you ever…?”

Frowning, Bucky sighed. “Yeah,” he answered in a bitter tone. “Once.”

Steve nodded, then rubbed his forehead for a moment. “I, uh, I have to… tell you something.”

“You already knew,” Bucky surmised, giving Steve a crooked smile.

Steve’s eyes widened. “How did you –”

“Come on, Steve,” Bucky interrupted. “You couldn’t have figured out my deepest desires that easily.”

A deep blush spread across Steve’s cheeks, even reaching the tips of his ears. “I should have said something earlier.”

Shrugging, Bucky asked, “When would have been a good time for that?” He ate a few more bites, not expect Steve to respond. Glancing over, he found a stern look on Steve’s face and smiled. “You’re thinking hard about something.”

He looked up and his frown only deepened. “Can I… ask you about what happened?”

Bucky swallowed. “You mean… with Justin.” Steve’s face darkened at the mention of his name, but he nodded his head. Bucky bit his lip and answered, “Yeah.”

“You don’t have to answer,” Steve asserted and Bucky nodded his head. “I just… I want to make sure I never do anything that he did.”

Bucky sighed. “You really don’t have to worry about that, Steve.” He ran his fingers through his still damp hair. “He was controlling and demanding. That night, I said I didn’t want to do something, but he didn’t care.”

“The report said you’d been tied down,” Steve went on, though said each word slowly, as if feeling it out first. “Did you… want him to?”

“No,” he answered. “That’s one of my… rules with clients.”

Steve nodded. “That’s smart.”

“Wasn’t always,” Bucky chuckled. “But I learned quickly.”

Frowning, Steve asked, “Did someone else… hurt you?”

Shaking his head, Bucky answered, “Steve, there isn’t some sob story here. You understand that, right? I _chose_ this.”

“I’m not trying to imply –”

“I know,” Bucky interrupted, putting his hand up. “Let’s finish eating, okay?”

Steve nodded his agreement and they returned to their meal. Bucky was very pleased with the food, but he was even more pleased that Steve had cooked for him. That he’d _wanted_ to do it. That knowledge made something soften inside Bucky, something that he hadn’t even realized had turned stony.

Finishing the last bite, he beamed. “This was delicious. Thank you.” He licked his lip before adding, “Daddy.”

Steve’s eyes darkened. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

He took a possessive hold on Bucky’s neck and led him forward, pulling him into a deep kiss. Bucky melted into it immediately, gripping Steve’s bare shoulders to stay upright. Steve’s other hand gripped some of Bucky’s hair and he let out a soft moan at the tug.

When Steve pulled back, Bucky whimpered, trying to chase his mouth. “You want more?” Steve asked and Bucky nodded.

“Please, Daddy,” he breathed.

“Tonight,” Steve promised, smiling. “When you’re done with work.”

Bucky felt the blood leave his face. “But… I’ll be…”

“I know,” Steve whispered. “I want you to come to me after.”

Something in his eyes, something about the harried desire plain on Steve’s face had Bucky’s blood pumping faster. “You… do?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I do.”

“Oh.” Bucky’s eyes widened. _Steve likes it. He _wants_ to have me after_.

“Where are you going to be tonight?” Steve asked and Bucky was shaken from his reverie.

“Don’t ask me that,” he pleaded.

“Buck,” Steve tried but Bucky shook his hands away.

“Do _not_ ask me that.”

Steve frowned. “I told you last night, I’m going to do whatever I have to do to keep you safe.”

Bucky looked away and shook his head. “Steve, this is my _l__ivelihood_.” He stood up, taking their plates from the counter and carrying them to the sink. “I can’t just tell you where I’ll be or with _who_, and you know why.”

“I can’t believe this is an argument,” Steve grumbled.

Bucky turned around, leaning against the sink, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Neither can _I_, Steve, because I thought you understood that I’m not going to quit my job.”

Steve’s head jerked up. “Bucky, I’m not asking you to.”

“It sure sounds like it,” Bucky snapped.

“Well, I’m _not_.” Steve rounded the island and reached out, laying his hand over Bucky’s wrist, holding it gently. “I’m not going to ask you to do that. I don’t want you to.” Bucky met his gaze, finding only sincerity there. “Buck, I know that your work comes with an amount of risk –”

“Yeah, and so does _yours_,” Bucky interrupted.

“Yes, it does,” Steve agreed. “Which is why I’m not asking you to stop, or change, or anything else.”

All of the fight bled out of Bucky and he sighed. “I’m sorry. I know you’re worried.”

“I am,” Steve said, nodding.

“But, I need you to trust me,” Bucky added. “This won’t work if you don’t.”

Steve swallowed. “You’re right. But there has to be a middle ground, at least until this is over.”

“The middle ground is,” Bucky answered, “I make you an emergency contact in my phone and you’re my first call if I feel unsafe.”

With a deep frown, Steve asked, “What if I’m on the other end of the city?”

Bucky sighed and looked away. “I can tell you…” he began but hesitated for a moment. “I _can_ tell you the… general area. That way, if something happens, you’re nearby.”

Steve beamed. “I accept that, sweetheart.”

Bucky bit his lip before walking back to the bedroom to collect his phone. After opening the calendar app, he checked the schedule for that night and returned to the kitchen. “I’m going to be in Brooklyn Heights. I only have one client tonight.”

Steve had returned to his seat. “Do you often have more than one?” His tone wasn’t judgmental or jealous – it was merely curious.

“I usually book two at least,” Bucky answered. “That way, if one falls through or cancels, my night isn’t wasted. I’ll set aside a specific amount of time and my regulars all follow it really well.”

“Do you do overnights?”

Nodding, Bucky said, “Not often because it – wait.” He stopped and sat on the stool, facing Steve. “Do you… _really_ want to know all this?”

Steve’s brow furrowed and his eyes went a little distant as he considered his response. Finally, he said, “I don’t want to know the… particulars about what you do together but I _do_ want you to feel safe talking to me about it.” Pursing his lips, Steve thought for another moment, then added, “There are aspects of my job that I can’t tell you but… I’d like to be able to decompress with you.”

With a small smile, Bucky replied, “I understand what you mean.” Taking a deep breath, he finally went on. “My rate is pretty high, so an overnight isn’t something even my wealthier clients book often. I do have one regular who books me all night and I’ll… make sure you know ahead of time.”

Steve nodded and grinned. “Sometimes my work calls me away at all hours so… I’ll try to do the same.”

Feeling a little nervous all of a sudden, Bucky asked, “Do you still want me to come to your place after?”

“Yes, of course,” Steve answered, taking Bucky’s hands in his and tugging on him a little, to bring them closer together. As he whispered in Bucky’s ear, his hot breath blew across Bucky’s skin. “I’ll run you a bath and rub your back.” Bucky shivered at both the physical sensation, as well as the soothing imagery. “I’ll take such good care of you. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

Without pulling away, Bucky breathed, “I’d like that a lot, Daddy.”

He felt Steve smile against his neck. “Then that’s what I’ll do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? <3


	18. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience! I have SERIOUS writer's block right now TT-TT I am doing my best for you. I'm sorry...

It was nearly two when Steve heard a quiet knock. Looking up from his book, he smiled and slipped his glasses off – something he was still mildly embarrassed about. At almost thirty-four years old, his vision wasn’t as perfect as it had been a few years before, but he was grateful he didn’t need them all the time.

When he got to the door, he checked the peephole though he really hadn’t needed to, and gasped at the sight. After he opened it, Steve stepped back to allow Bucky to enter, marveling at how amazing he looked. “Hi, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Bucky’s cheek as he did.

Bucky smiled, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Hi, Daddy.”

“You look beautiful,” Steve added, slipping his hands over Bucky’s navy blue blazer. “Are you hungry or anything?”

“A little thirsty,” Bucky admitted.

Taking Bucky’s hand, Steve led him into the living room and to the couch. “Take a seat and I’ll get you some water. Is that okay?”

Bucky dropped down and nodded his head. “Yes, please.”

When Steve returned with a glass, Bucky smiled and accepted it before drinking the entirety of it in one go. “I guess you were more than a little thirsty, sweetheart,” Steve observed as he took the cup. “Would you like some more?”

“No, thanks, Daddy,” Bucky answered, standing up, though he suddenly looked uncertain. “Um, did you still –”

“Yes,” Steve replied without needing Bucky to finish his question. “Let me run the bath, okay, baby boy?”

Bucky’s eyes fluttered and he nodded, swaying into Steve slightly before Steve wrapped an arm around his waist and led him into the bedroom. He knew that his apartment was pretty big for a cop’s salary, though it was nowhere near the size of Bucky’s. They made their way to the bed and Steve let Bucky sit on it.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised. “Don’t get undressed. I want to do that. Can you wait for me?”

Bucky’s eyes were already hazy but he nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”

Steve hurried as fast as he could; he made sure the water was a good temperature as it filled the tub and even added some lavender bath salts. He wasn’t entirely sure where those had even come from, but he imagined they’d been left behind by a girlfriend some time before.

When the water had risen to a good level, he returned to the bedroom and found Bucky exactly where he’d left him. Just as he’d promised, Steve helped Bucky out of his dark blue blazer and thin white t-shirt, then gently stood him up to pull his skin-tight jeans off.

When Bucky stood naked before him, Steve touched his own shirt collar and asked, “Is this okay?”

Bucky nodded. “Yes, Daddy, please.” His voice was breathy and soft but Steve heard him clearly.

He yanked his own shirt off, then dropped his pajama pants. “Come on, sweetheart,” he said, leading Bucky by the hand into the bathroom and helping him slip into the water. “Is that too hot?” He asked when Bucky’s face scrunched up a little.

“No, Daddy,” Bucky answered. “I’m… just a little sore is all. My legs,” he added, looking up at Steve with wide, cautious eyes.

_He’s afraid I’ll be angry or jealous, or worse, disgusted by hi__m_, Steve realized. Bucky was afraid that Steve would change his mind, or wouldn’t be able to handle the _reality_ of this. _I can’t have that_.

Smiling gently, Steve knelt down by the tub. “I want to rub you down after this,” he said. “Would that be alright, baby boy?”

Bucky swallowed, watching Steve’s face for a long moment before he answered. “I’d… I’d like that, Daddy.”

“Okay,” Steve agreed. “I’m gonna get in now. Is that okay?”

“Please,” Bucky whispered, scooting forward to allow Steve to climb in behind him.

While Bucky rested against him, Steve scrubbed him down with slow and careful movements. He kept it innocent to ensure that Bucky understood what this was about – to ensure that he didn’t feel unsafe. So much of Bucky’s job seemed to be about _expectation_ – the expectation of sex, payment, obedience, and so on, but not for Steve.

If they spent the night having sex, Steve would be pleased. If they went straight to bed and slept all night, he would still be pleased.

But, maybe, Bucky didn’t know that; maybe he needed to _hear_ Steve say it.

“You know,” Steve murmured against Bucky’s hair, “you seem pretty beat, sweetheart, and I’m tired too.” Bucky went rigid in his hold, but Steve went on. “We can just go to sleep after I massage you, if you want.”

Bucky turned toward him, eyes wide. “N-no, I’m not sore like that, I _promise_, we can have sex, it’s okay –”

“Buck,” Steve interrupted, keeping his tone gentle. “I didn’t mean it that way.” He touched Bucky’s cheek with his wet hand, but neither of them cared. “I’m only saying, if you’re tired, I don’t mind going to sleep.”

Bucky looked uncertain, biting his lip with furrowed brows. Steve leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to his lips, trying to imbue it with all of the feelings rolling around inside him. There was something intense between them, something Steve had never before experienced and never wanted to lose – he could only hope that Bucky felt the same.

“I only want to have sex with you when _you_ want it too,” Steve emphasized. “If you don’t feel up to it, or aren’t in the mood, I will never be mad or disappointed.” Pressing a final kiss to Bucky’s lips, Steve laid back against the tub. “I want to be your Daddy and take care of you – however you need me to.”

Bucky let out a sigh and nodded his head. “I want you,” he whispered, spinning more to wrap his arms around Steve’s neck. “I want you to fuck me, Daddy.”

Steve inhaled sharply before gathering Bucky up and kissing him, pulling him close. “You can have me, baby boy,” he breathed. “You can have me any time.”

The bath devolved into hot, wet kisses and desperate touches until Steve pulled the plug and heaved them out. He grabbed towels and made quick work of drying them both off while Bucky swayed with a smile on his face. Steve was surprised by how quickly Bucky melted into that headspace but he was sure that it was a _relief_ for him.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured, leading Bucky back into the bedroom.

They were both hard and Steve noticed that Bucky was leaking a little, as if he were so far gone already. A thought occurred to him as he sat Bucky down on the end of the bed and dropped to his knees.

“Daddy’s gonna take the edge off,” he murmured before taking Bucky into his mouth. It was wonderful and the sounds his little boy let out only amplified his own pleasure.

“Daddy, oh, God,” Bucky whined, leaning back on his hands. His hips twitched as if he wanted to thrust into Steve’s mouth but held himself back. He whimpered and Steve growled around him. “Fuck, _please_, i-if you keep going, fuck, Daddy, _I’ll come_!”

Steve only took him deeper until Bucky’s dick nudged the back of his throat, and he cried out. Hot fluid filled Steve’s mouth and he gently pulled away, leaning over to stealthily spit it in his small trash can.

Turning back, he found Bucky laying in a panting mess on the bed, with one arm thrown over his face. Steve stood from the floor, wiping his mouth as he did, then he crawled over Bucky’s body.

“Do you still want Daddy to fuck you, sweetheart?” He asked.

Bucky dropped his arm and nodded, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Need it, Daddy. Need you.”

“Let’s move up the bed,” Steve suggested, tucking one arm beneath Bucky’s back and heaving them both a few feet.

“Jesus,” Bucky gasped, “you’re fucking strong.”

Steve grinned. “Thank you.”

“How – when did _this_ happen?” Bucky suddenly asked, touching Steve’s shoulders and chest. “You were, like, half of this.”

Chuckling, Steve nodded. “Yeah, I… well, I was diagnosed with a thyroid disease and, with treatment and a lot of dietary changes, I got here.”

Bucky seemed to hesitate for a moment before he said, “Can I ask you something?”

“You can always ask me anything,” Steve assured. “If I can’t tell you, I’ll explain why.”

Nodding, Bucky went on, “I wanted to ask… about that night. Before I moved away.”

Steve hadn’t been expecting that at all, though he had wondered when this topic would finally come up. He cursed himself for not being the one to do it, to explain.

Scratching his head, Steve clarified, “You mean when I… pushed you away?”

“Yeah,” Bucky answered. “But now you’re… into me.”

Steve rolled onto his side and nodded, taking a deep breath. “You were my first kiss,” he said, noting the way Bucky’s head jerked up. “But up until that point, I’d only ever imagined kissing women. It’s a pathetic excuse, Buck, but I was startled and scared.”

He couldn’t help but remember how he’d been mocked as a teen – he was thin and lanky; he had asthma and couldn’t participate in any sports. His classmates had often hurled insults at him, questioning his sexuality and his masculinity.

“Those guys used to call me a ‘faggot’ and a ‘queer’ just because I was small. When you kissed me, I heard them in my head and I panicked.” He sniffled, surprised by the tears in his eyes. “Years later, in college, I met a guy and we dated for a while. It was nice. I learned that it was okay but I never forgot that night.”

Looking up, he found that Bucky’s own eyes were wide and wet as he listened to Steve’s explanation. He opened his mouth and Steve could tell he meant to apologize – for kissing him or for asking, Steve wasn’t sure, but he wouldn’t have it.

“_I’m_ sorry, Bucky,” he interrupted. “I really am.” He leaned forward and touched Bucky’s cheek, gently leading him forward until their foreheads pressed together. “I’m just so grateful you’re here, that you gave me a second chance.”

Bucky gasped and lifted both hands, cupping Steve’s cheeks as they breathed each other in. “You were my first kiss too,” Bucky admitted with a smile.

Steve almost said, _I want to be your last_, but he clamped his mouth shut. Instead, he pressed a kiss to Bucky’s lips as they both wiped stray tears away. He didn’t understand how something that started so primal had shifted into something… loving. Bucky’s hands were firm but not in the desperate way that they had been as he rolled them so Steve was on top of him. His thighs wrapped around Steve’s waist to keep him close.

The frenzy was gone, replaced by deep and startling feelings that Steve hadn’t realized were developing. It was so fast and yet, not really. If he thought about it, he’d been waiting for Bucky for more than fifteen years. Back then, he’d never allowed himself to imagine that the tenderness in his gut was anything beyond friendship.

That all changed after the kiss – after Bucky was gone.

So many years had passed and there they were, on Steve’s bed again, and not only was Bucky’s kiss returned this time – it was wanted. Steve wanted _all_ of Bucky and he intended to spend every moment of their time together proving it.

“St-Steve,” Bucky gasped, “please, need you. Please.”

Steve nodded his head and grabbed the bottle of lube and a condom. Bucky’s body opened perfectly for him and in no time at all, Steve was rubbing his prostate with three fingers. Bucky’s head was thrown back and every breath was harsh as he rocked against Steve’s hand. With each gentle movement, he was only becoming more desperate.

“Please, Daddy,” he begged. “Please, I – h-haven’t I been good? Please.”

“Oh, baby boy,” Steve murmured as he let his fingers slip free slowly. “You’re so good for me.” He wiped his hand on the towel and reaching for a condom. Using his teeth to tear the wrapper open, Steve slipped it over himself and applied more lube. “You ready?”

Bucky whined, “Yes, Daddy, _please_!”

Steve shifted them a little, bringing Bucky’s thighs up around his waist and angling his dick. “Anything for you, sweetheart,” he promised as he slipped inside Bucky’s body.

Bucky sighed in what sounded like _relief_. “Thank you, Daddy, thank you,” he repeated.

“My sweet boy,” Steve rasped against Bucky’s collarbone as he filled him slowly. “You always feel so amazing for me, so perfect.”

He kept his thrusts slow, burying his face in Bucky’s neck as he moved. “D-Daddy,” Bucky pleaded and Steve nodded.

“I know, baby,” he rasped, “I know.” _Fuck, did he know._ “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Want more, please,” Bucky whimpered, setting Steve’s blood on fire. “Need it, Daddy.”

“Fuck,” Steve growled.

He wrapped one hand beneath Bucky’s shoulder, gripping it tight while he dug his knees into the mattress. The next thrust made Bucky cry out in a shocked moan that sent shivers down Steve’s spine. Sitting up a little, Steve stared down at Bucky’s body, humming at the beauty of it – lithe, but strong, and Steve still couldn’t believe that Bucky was _his_.

At that moment, though, Bucky took Steve’s hand from the bed and dragged it across his body. Steve’s thrusts slowed as he watched, enraptured, as Bucky placed it firmly on his throat. Bucky swallowed against it and Steve could see more of that doubt – that shame Bucky had felt at the club.

Steve wouldn’t have that.

“Sweetheart,” Steve murmured. “Tell me how.”

Bucky’s eyes opened and met Steve’s in a fiery gaze. He moved his hand from Steve’s wrist to his forearm and squeezed, just a bit; Steve mimicked the hold and watched Bucky’s face fall into absolute _bliss. _Steve continued to observe him intently, watching for any signs of discomfort. Finding none, he maintained his grip and pulled out almost all the way, then slammed back in.

The moans that slipped from Bucky’s open mouth were intoxicating, no matter the restricted airflow. Steve kept his focus on Bucky’s grip, waiting for it to loosen, waiting for Bucky to tell him it was enough. Instead, though, his grip _tightened _and Steve growled, bringing Bucky’s leg over his other arm, changing the angle of his thrusts while he followed Bucky’s instruction.

The slow, languid sex they’d been having was long gone, replaced by something harder but equally as intense.

Steve could tell Bucky was getting close. His eyes were shut and his back was arched as delicious sounds escaped his open mouth. When his grip loosened, Steve released his throat and brought his hand down to Bucky’s neglected dick which, despite his orgasm several minutes earlier, was hard and leaking

“D-Daddy,” Bucky cried out in a hoarse voice. “Gonna come, can I come? So close, please.”

“Yes, you can come, baby,” he murmured. “You can always come, any time you want. Daddy will make you come as many times as you want.”

Bucky was beyond being able to respond, it seemed, as his back arched and eyes rolled back in his head. He was releasing soft but desperate moans, bordering on painful, and Steve furrowed his brow.

“Baby boy,” he said, “am I hurting you?”

Shaking his head, Bucky panted, “No, Daddy. Just wanna come, wanna come so bad.”

“What do you need?” Steve asked, gently.

Bucky opened his eyes a crack. “Harder, Daddy,” he whimpered, “faster. Want you inside me when I come.”

Steve’s head rolled back as he groaned. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he rumbled. “Whatever you want.”

With that, Steve set a brutal pace, pressing both of Bucky’s thighs to his chest and lying over him. Bucky was bent in half and Steve held him there with his own body while every thrust made Bucky cry out. In this position, he could no longer grip Bucky’s dick but, if the high moans coming from him were any indication, he was going to come untouched and Steve _loved_ that his baby could do that.

“Want you to come on my cock, sweetheart,” he growled. “Just my cock.”

“Daddy,” Bucky whined but Steve only pounded into him harder.

“You gonna be good for me? Be my sweet boy?”

“Oh, God,” Bucky hissed. “Fuck, I wanna be good, wanna come.”

“Do it,” Steve commanded, feeling his own orgasm steadily rising, but it would keep. He would hold on as long as it took.

Though, it turned out to not be very long at all.

“Oh-oh fu- oh, my God, Daddy,” Bucky whimpered as his ass clenched down on Steve’s cock and his come smeared between their bodies. His entire body seemed to tighten up and then release all at once. “_Uhn, uhn, uhn_, Daddy.”

“Oh, fuck, sweetheart,” Steve groaned before he picked up his pace. “Wanna come in you, baby, wanna fill you up.”

“Want it,” Bucky whined, obviously overstimulated. “Wanna feel it inside me.”

For a moment, Steve imagined fucking Bucky without a condom, feeling his boy come around his bare cock. Then, he would _really_ fill him up, fucking his own come inside Bucky’s hot body.

“Oh, Bucky, fuck!” He slammed his hips against Bucky’s ass as his vision went black and a deep, rumbling moan reverberated through his bedroom. His entire body flexed and he knew he was holding Bucky too tight, until he finally relaxed and released a harsh breath.

They lay together, sweating and panting for a few long, quiet moments. Steve used the time to reflect on what Bucky had said, what he’d suggested. Condoms had always been a rule with Steve and he was sure Bucky felt the same way, and yet… he’d suggested they might go without? The very idea of it had sent Steve spiraling to his orgasm – an amazing orgasm at that.

But, with Bucky’s work, his safety was priority – both physical and medical.

Taking another breath, he decided that he would not be the one to bring it up. If Bucky had merely been saying it as a form of dirty talk, a fantasy, then it might make him feel pressured if Steve opened the conversation.

“That was amazing, Daddy,” Bucky murmured and Steve nodded.

“You’re always so good for me, sweetheart.”

He slowly pulled out, pressing kisses to Bucky’s forehead as he did. After disposing of the condom, Steve grabbed a hand towel and wet it with warm water to rinse Bucky down with. When he returned to the bedroom, though, he found Bucky fast asleep.

As quietly and gently as he could, Steve wiped Bucky down before tossing the towel aside. Getting Bucky _into_ the bed was a little bit trickier, but he managed it without too much hassle, and then he got in behind him. Wrapping his arm around Bucky’s waist, Steve pulled him close and within a few minutes, he fell asleep too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? :D  
Again, I'm working hard for you all. I'm sorry.


	19. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, there is no plot in my brain and all I have to give you is smut.  
Which is just fine though I had hoped for more. :( I've got chapter 19 done but I want to hold onto it until I get more done on chapter 20.  
We're getting close to the end of this fic, everyone TT-TT  
I love you all for your patience and kindness. <3

“Mmm, Daddy, that feels so good.”

Steve hummed his approval as he rubbed oil between Bucky’s shoulders. As he reached the muscle below, Bucky let out a small whimper that set Steve’s blood on fire. He’d learned what that sound meant – that Bucky had begun to slip into that headspace where he could finally relax and let Steve take care of him

“That’s right, baby,” he murmured. “Just let go.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Bucky breathed and Steve felt the tension in his muscles dissipate.

While Bucky was naked, Steve had kept his sweatpants on and ignored his growing erection. This was about Bucky and not about sex - at least, not until Bucky wanted it to be. Steve’s hands slipped down, gently massaging the muscles along Bucky’s spine. Each breathy moan he released made Steve swell with pride, among other things.

Adjusting himself, Steve moved away from Bucky’s back, instead focusing on his thighs. He felt Bucky shiver but forced himself to return to his task. He rubbed Bucky’s calves and ankles, then his feet.

Bucky let out a quiet moan and Steve smiled. As he moved back up, he gentled his touch to ensure Bucky knew he had no intention to take it further. That was, until Bucky whined, “Daddy, please.”

Steve continued with the soft movements as he whispered, “Tell me what you need.”

“Need you, Daddy,” Bucky replied, digging his fingers into the bedding. “You always make me feel so good. Please.”

Steve took a deep breath, collecting himself. “Tell Daddy what you want. I will always give you whatever you ask for, sweetheart.”

Bucky nodded but buried his face in the blanket. Steve moved one hand up, following the length of Bucky’s spine before taking a gentle but possessive hold on the back of his neck. Bucky sighed into it, trying to push back and make it firmer.

“Can you tell me?” Steve asked in a soft voice. “I’ll do anything you ask me to.”

Bucky’s body was wracked with shivers as Steve continued to rub his back and along his upper arms. Each touch was strategically placed away from any place that may tease him, though Steve knew that, in itself, was a tease as well.

“You’re getting so tense, sweetheart,” he chided, though his voice held no disapproval. “Guess I have to start all the way over.”

“No, Daddy, please,” Bucky cried out. “I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

Steve’s resolve had been shaky at best but he felt it crumbling. “God, you’re so good, baby boy. Always so perfect for me.”

“Please,” Bucky begged.

There was something in his voice that brought Steve back to himself in a rush. Bucky was desperate, yes, but he was also afraid. Steve adjusted himself to the side and gently helped Bucky roll over onto his back, pushing his own need down. Bucky looked up at him, biting his already red lip.

“Sweetheart,” Steve murmured, touching Bucky’s cheek. “Can you tell me?”

After a moment, Bucky opened his mouth and Steve almost gasped at the swollen state of his bottom lip. “Daddy,” Bucky panted and Steve waited. “Please, I need to come.”

“You need Daddy to touch you?”

“Yes,” he whimpered and Steve swallowed. “W-want your fingers.”

“You want to come on my fingers, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Please,” Bucky pleaded and Steve had had enough of making him wait.

He grabbed the lube and crawled between Bucky’s legs, running his hands from Bucky’s knees to his hips. His cock was hard and red, already leaking onto his belly, and his chest rose and fell in quick, harried gasps.

“Look at you,” Steve rasped and Bucky moaned, as if Steve’s voice alone had caused him pleasure. “So beautiful,” Steve went on, “so perfect for me.”

“Daddy, please,” Bucky begged and Steve nodded before slicking up his fingers.

While he had no intention to tease Bucky further, he was in no hurry. He slipped one inside slowly, watching Bucky’s body accept him as if it were made for it, for _him_. When his knuckle fit against Bucky’s perineum, he held still and watched as Bucky began to squirm. Steve crooked his finger and moaned when Bucky arched into it, whimpering.

“So good,” Steve murmured.

“More,” Bucky gasped, “please.”

Steve shook his head. “Can you be patient for me, sweetheart?” Bucky sobbed, lifting both hands to cover his face. “I want to take my time. You’re already so far gone, baby. I wanna make this last.”

Bucky trembled as he forced his body to keep still, to please Steve, and Steve had never experienced anything so erotic. His own cock was hard in his pants but he knew he could ignore it. This wasn’t about him.

Slowly, Steve slipped a second finger in and Bucky cried out, arching his back and curling his toes. Steve began to move his arm, slipping the fingers out and then pushing them back in before crooking them to rub on Bucky’s prostate while his thumb rubbed Bucky’s perineum.

“Daddy, please,” he cried. “I need it – need to come.”

“You look like you could come any moment,” Steve groaned, watching Bucky fall into absolute bliss. He pushed a third finger inside, watching as Bucky arched further, almost impossibly so. “What do you need?”

Bucky shuddered. “Want you to tell me,” he whispered. “Tell me what you want to do to me.”

Steve took a deep breath. “You want to know what Daddy wants to do to you?” Bucky nodded from behind his hands. “You wanna hear how I wanna fuck your tight ass, bend you over and take you? Slip a plug inside you and keep you ready for me, for whenever I want you.”

“Oh, my God,” Bucky groaned, rocking his hips.

“Want to feel you come around my cock,” Steve continued.

“Just your cock,” Bucky pleaded and Steve released a deep moan. “Please, Daddy,” Bucky continued, “want you to fill me up.”

“Fuck, baby,” Steve rasped, letting his head fall back. “Yes, yes, I want to. Wanna come inside my baby. Wanna give you anything you ask for.”

“Please, Daddy.”

Steve was tempted – so tempted, but Bucky was clearly on the brink of his orgasm and Steve shook his head. “Not this time, sweetheart.” He knew Bucky would take it as rejection, so he went on, “I wanna make you come and then…”

“Th-then?” Bucky gasped.

“Daddy wants you to make me come however you want to,” Steve groaned. “Would you like that?”

Bucky nodded. “Wanna suck your cock, Daddy,” he breathed out and Steve thought he might come in his pants, just from the suggestion. “Please, wanna, I want –”

“Yes, if you –” Steve paused, taking a shaky breath. “Anything you want.”

“Please, Daddy,” Bucky murmured, “wanna come.”

Steve groaned, low and dark, and began rubbing Bucky’s prostate with more determination. He recognized the sounds, the desperate and wanton sounds of Bucky’s orgasm, and they nearly drove him mad with his own desire.

Bucky’s abdomen clenched and his hips jerked with every drag of Steve’s fingers. “S-so close,” he panted and Steve nodded.

“You gonna come for Daddy?” Steve rasped.

Bucky’s entire body went rigid and he stopped breathing for a moment before he cried out. His come shot across his chest, even hitting his clavicle and Steve leaned down to lap it up.

“So good for me,” he praised as he cleaned Bucky off. “My good boy.”

“Daddy,” Bucky breathed as he came down.

Steve slipped his fingers free and wiped them off before Bucky reached for him. He took Steve’s face in his hands and pulled him into a deep, wet kiss, groaning. After another moment, he pulled away and began moving, trying to shift them.

“Where do you want me?” Steve asked and Bucky grinned at him.

“On your back, Daddy,” he said, licking his lips. “Want you to come in my mouth and…”

He hesitated and Steve asked, gently, “And?”

“Want you to come on my face,” he finished in a rush and Steve gasped.

The image of Bucky on his knees, covered in Steve’s come, licking it up…

“Oh, fuck, baby boy,” Steve groaned, a shocked, indecent sound. “Jesus Christ, you’re something else.”

Bucky looked at him with wide, anxious eyes and asked, “Do you… want to?”

Steve pulled Bucky into a deep, harsh kiss, and flipped them over. “Yes, fuck,” he groaned, digging his hands in Bucky’s hair. “Anything you want, anything, sweetheart.”

“But –” Bucky began, then hesitated.

Steve waited, patiently, for several moments before he asked, “Do you want Daddy to do something?”

“Kind of…” Bucky bit his lip. “Please, don’t… fuck my face… hard.”

Steve blinked and frowned, imagining that someone had not heeded this request, that they had hurt Bucky or forced him. As a call boy, Bucky would be expected to give oral sex, Steve was sure, but that did not mean he wanted it rough. The fact that Bucky had not initiated this before suggested that he was less than comfortable with the act, or even that it was something he preferred to work up to.

“I’ll hold still until you tell me otherwise, sweetheart,” Steve promised, giving Bucky a warm smile.

In a matter of moments, Bucky had taken Steve all the way into his mouth. Steve’s clenched the blanket in his fists and moaned, unable to take his eyes away from the scene. Bucky’s lips were stretched around him; his eyes were closed; and his hair fell around his face in soft waves.

_God,_ Steve thought, _he’s so fucking gorgeous_.

“Fuck, baby boy,” he groaned, licking his lips. “You’re so – oh fuck, you feel so good.”

In response, Bucky moaned and sucked the tip of Steve’s dick, using his hand to pump the rest. Steve’s eyes crossed in pleasure and he dropped his head back onto the pillow, unable to keep watching for fear he’d come too quickly.

He knew Bucky was giving this to him because he wanted to please him, and he knew he wanted it to last. After a moment, Bucky’s free hand took Steve’s, lacing their fingers together and Steve looked down at him again.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned as Bucky took his all way into his mouth again and _swallowed_. “Oh, my God, sweetheart, you look so good.”

Pulling off, Bucky rasped, “You like it, Daddy?”

Steve nodded his head vehemently. “Yes, fuck, it’s so good.”

Bucky grinned before licking from the base to the tip and back down, then sucking the head some more. Steve was panting and gasping, digging his heels into the bed and gripping Bucky’s hand tightly.

“Fuck, sweetheart, ‘m close, you gotta stop,” he urged but Bucky wasn’t stopping. “I’m – fuck, Bucky, you gotta –”

Bucky only took Steve deeper, into his throat, ignoring his warnings. Steve dug his fingers in Bucky’s hair, trying to pull him off, but Bucky released a deep, rumbling moan at the sensation and Steve was gone.

“F-fuck, I’m coming, baby, I’m coming,” he panted just before Bucky pulled away, allowing Steve’s come to spill across his face, neck, and chest.

He lay, breathless and sated on the bed as Bucky licked him clean until the sensation became too much and he was jerking away. “Good, Daddy?” He asked and Steve huffed, reaching up to run his thumb along Bucky’s chin, pushing some come into his waiting lips.

“Oh, my God,” Steve groaned. “Look at you.” Bucky sucked on Steve’s thumb, holding his gaze for a moment before Steve yanked him into a deep, wet kiss. “That was incredible.”

“Mmm,” Bucky purred, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Let me get you cleaned up?” Steve asked and Bucky nodded, though he continued pressing kisses to Steve’s lips. “I’ll be right back,” Steve promised and slipped off the bed, wetting a cloth with warm water and returning to wipe Bucky down. “You’re amazing. I’m so – I’m so lucky. I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

Bucky smiled up at him, kneeling on the bed as Steve stood next to it. “I’m lucky too, Daddy. You… you’re doing so much for me, I –”

He didn’t finish and Steve didn’t press him. Instead, he tossed the cloth into the hamper and lay back on the bed. “Come here,” he whispered, reaching for Bucky and pulling him to Steve’s side. “Was that alright?”

Bucky nodded. “Thank you for being so gentle.”

Steve smiled. “I only want to give you what you need – what you _want_.”

Bucky’s breathing began to even out and he muttered, “I just want you.”

That hit Steve in the chest and he buried his nose in Bucky’s hair, kissing his head and counting his blessings that they had come this far. He never wanted to lose this and the intensity of his feelings was growing by the day. Each moment they shared only made him want Bucky more – and in more ways.

He could only hope that Bucky felt the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think? :D <3


	20. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Here's a little more plot and.... some more porn... but the plot is exciting! Though... so is the porn. Some really big stuff happens in this chapter and I'm updating the tags. ;)  
There is a scene that may be triggering to some readers, so be advised.
> 
> NSFW art in this chapter! Beautiful commission created by [JessRoseDraws](https://twitter.com/JessRoseDraws)! I'm so grateful (she was so nice even though I was a nervous wreck about commissioning NSFW art XD)

“Steve, this is too risky,” Bucky hissed as Steve led him toward the restaurant. “If we’re seen together, you could get in trouble, right?”

“Buck,” Steve said, “New York is a big place.”

“Not so big that no cops will recognize you – or_ me_, for that matter.” He zipped his bomber jacket up, as if it could conceal his identity.

Steve paused and turned to Bucky. “It’s alright if you really don’t want to go.”

Bucky frowned. “I _do_, Steve, but…” He pulled his hair into a bun and glanced up and down the street. “I don’t want to be the reason you get in trouble.”

Stepping closer, Steve took Bucky’s face in his hands and kissed his forehead. “I appreciate that, sweetheart. I really do.” Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck and toyed with the hair that nearly reached the collar of his shirt. Steve hummed in pleasure and pulled Bucky into a kiss. “But I want to take my baby boy out to dinner. Will you let me?”

Bucky bit his lip but nodded his head. “Y-yeah,” he answered.

Steve beamed at him and threaded their fingers together, pulling him through the deep red double doors. A beautiful woman stood at the host station, smiling at them as they approached. “Hi, dinner for two?”

“Yes,” Steve answered. “Just us.”

“Come on back,” she said, leading them through the sparsely populated dining room to a table in the back.

The walls were deep cherry wood and the ceilings were red, like the doors, with gold wainscoting along the trim. Small chandeliers hung above them and Bucky could hear quiet piano music playing from the speakers; both of which gave the restaurant an air of sophistication. Based on the colors and décor, Bucky imagined that the restaurant’s heyday was before the Stock Market Crash – or it was meant to appear that way.

“Here you are, gentlemen,” the woman said, gesturing to a table set far away from other patrons. She laid menus out for them and asked, “May I start you with a glass of wine?”

Bucky looked to Steve and waited; after a pause, Steve grinned and turned to the woman. “Whiskey,” he said, adding a brand that Bucky had never heard of.

The host nodded and walked away, though her eyes lingered on Steve for a moment longer than Bucky liked. His jaw twitched but he didn’t speak. Instead he tugged his jacket off and leaned back in his chair, opening the menu to review the contents. It was a short time later that Bucky felt Steve’s foot press against his ankle; glancing up, he found Steve’s eyes intent on him.

“What?” Bucky asked, sure he was smiling like a dope.

“Nothing,” Steve answered, grinning back. He reached out and took Bucky’s hand again, rubbing his thumb along Bucky’s knuckles. “I’m just… I like this.”

“I-I do too,” Bucky admitted.

Steve’s eyes wandered over Bucky’s shoulders and chest and he hummed. “You look beautiful. I mean,” he went on, “you always look amazing, but I really love that shirt.”

Bucky felt himself blush at the compliment and looked down. The shirt in question was a tight black v-neck that hugged his muscles nicely. “I’m not as… big as you,” Bucky commented.

“I love it,” Steve growled and Bucky’s head shot up. “I love picking you up and carrying you around, baby boy. I love that I can take care of you.”

Bucky’s breaths had started coming faster as Steve spoke. He opened his mouth to reply when the host appeared and set their drinks on the table. “Here you are,” she said, mostly to Steve. “Pietro will be with you momentarily.”

“Thank you,” Steve replied without even glancing up and something about that made Bucky feel… settled. She walked away without another word and Steve leaned in, picking up where he’d left off on his previous thought. “I love the way you gasp when I carry you into the bedroom. Do you like when Daddy does that?”

Bucky inhaled sharply, shocked that Steve would talk this way in public. “Yes,” he whispered, feeling a blush creep up his neck. “God, yes.”

“Good boy,” Steve replied. “Try your whiskey.”

Bucky did as Steve said and sighed into the glass. “This is good,” he said, then met Steve’s eyes and added, “I like it, Daddy.”

“What else do you like?” Steve rasped.

Taking another sip, Bucky said, “I like it when you… put me how you want me. When you… take control and I can just let go.” Steve’s eyes darkened. “I know you’ll take such good care of me.”

“I’ll always take care of you, sweetheart,” Steve promised.

A young man approached them – he was obviously the waiter, but his hair had been dyed that lavender gray color that had become so popular. “Hi, I’m Pietro,” he said in accented English. “Have you had enough time to look over the menu?”

Again, Bucky looked at Steve and waited, but Steve didn’t hesitate this time. “Grilled salmon,” he said.

“Salad?” Pietro asked and Steve nodded. “And what else?”

“New York strip steak with a salad, as well,” he added, startling Pietro who’d been looking at Bucky.

“Uh, very good,” Pietro said, then took their menus before he turned to leave.

“What else do you like?” Steve asked.

“I like… when you do that,” Bucky hedged. “It’s like you know exactly what I want and you give it to me.”

Steve smiled. “I’ll always give you whatever you want, sweetheart.”

At that moment, Bucky caught sight of movement behind Steve and he glanced over. He went cold at what he saw, but forced his face to remain neutral – a skill he’d become proficient in. “I’m going to use the restroom,” he said, standing from the table and releasing Steve’s hand. “I’ll be right back.”

Something flashed across Steve’s face but it faded quickly. “Alright. I’ll be here.”

Bucky nodded and hurried to the bathroom, passing the host on his way. He took a deep breath before opening the door, finding Brock Rumlow there, leaning against the sink with his arms crossed.

“Hey, James,” he purred. “Havin’ a nice time?”

Bucky swallowed. “How did you find me?”

Rumlow’s dark eyes focused on him. “The boss wants me to check on you,” he answered. “Wants to know you’re… safe.”

Bucky felt dizzy. “As you can see, I’m f-fine. Please, leave.”

Shaking his head, Rumlow stood up straight. “How do you know the cop?” He asked and Bucky felt the blood rush from his face. “Not a usual client.”

_How does he know all of this?_

“J-just go, Rumlow,” he demanded, ignoring how his voice cracked.

“Nah,” Rumlow answered, grinning as he stepped closer. “I’m gonna stay. Maybe have some dinner, a couple drinks. Might make a few calls, you know?”

Bucky gulped and started backing up. “Call who?” Too quickly, Bucky’s back was against the wall.

Shrugging, Rumlow moved in close, putting his hand on the wall beside Bucky’s head. “Boss’ll want to know you’re with a cop. He’ll want to know who the cop is, too, of course.”

“Rumlow, leave him _alone_,” he growled but flinched when Rumlow slammed his other hand against the wall.

“Yeah,” he snarled, “that’s what I thought.” He leaned in, pressing his body to Bucky’s. “I could make an exception, you know,” Rumlow went on, grinding his hips against Bucky. “This once, I could _forget_ what I’d seen.”

Bucky felt bile rising in his throat but he clenched his jaw, fisting his hands at his sides. He couldn’t do it – _couldn’t_. But… if he did, Pierce might not learn about Steve.

He opened his mouth to speak when two things happened in quick succession: the bathroom door flew open and Rumlow’s body was ripped away. Bucky released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and his knees went weak.

“Steve,” he gasped, feeling heavy tears stream down his face.

Steve wasn’t looking at him, though; he had Rumlow's back against the opposite wall with a gun pressed to his chin. “You will _not_ lay hands on James Barnes ever again,” he snarled. “And you can pass that along to your fucking boss.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Rumlow watched Steve through narrowed eyes. “Barnes’ll come to _him_.”

Steve’s jaw twitched. “If you come near him again, Rumlow, I will _fucking kill you_.”

With that, he stepped back and holstered his gun. He kept himself between Rumlow and Bucky, watching Rumlow’s every move. He wiped his shirt and straightened his collar, all while glaring daggers at Steve, then he opened the door. As he stepped through, though, he stopped and called, “Be seein’ ya, James.”

Steve kicked the bathroom door shut, knocking Rumlow away from it and sending him careening to the floor, if the loud thump was any indication. Immediately, Steve spun around and rushed to Bucky with nothing but concern on his face.

“Did he hurt you?” He asked, touching Bucky’s cheeks and hair, assessing him for injuries.

Bucky realized he was shaking. “St-Steve,” he breathed.

“I’m here,” Steve whispered, gathering Bucky in his arms and holding him close. “I’m right here.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky sobbed into Steve’s t-shirt. “I’m sorry.”

Steve shook his head. “You did nothing wrong.”

“He was gonna tell Pierce about us.” Bucky shuddered, closing his eyes tight. “He said he wouldn’t if – if I –”

Steve’s hold tightened on him and he snarled, “Did he touch you?”

“H-he was about to,” Bucky answered. “But, I – I’m going to get you killed. I’m not worth it, Steve, I’m _not_.”

Steve pulled away enough to see Bucky’s face. “Sweetheart,” he whispered and Bucky fell apart.

“I’m not worth all this,” he cried.

“You stop that,” Steve commanded, touching Bucky’s cheek in a gentle hold. “You’re worth _everything_, Buck.”

Bucky tucked himself against Steve, crying all over his shirt. Steve held him and whispered sweet things to him, kind words and praises, as if Bucky hadn’t been about to let Rumlow fuck him in a bathroom.

It took a little time, but Bucky’s tears finally eased enough that Steve could help him clean up. “Are you okay?” He asked, gently wiping a damp towel across Bucky’s face.

Bucky nodded. “Y-yeah, I think so.”

The smile that Steve gave him was brilliant and held nothing but _joy_. “Do you want to go eat? Or just go home?”

Bucky shook his head. “I wanna eat dinner with you, Daddy.”

Steve’s pupils dilated. “You’re sure, sweet boy?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

When they returned to their table, they received wide, concerned looks from the staff but no one asked them to leave. Later, at Bucky’s apartment, Steve bathed him and washed his hair, scrubbing his scalp until the tension seeped from his body.

Afterward, Bucky dried off and dressed in a loose, thin v-neck and tight, black jeans. He tied his hair in a bun and stepped into the bedroom, finding Steve sitting on the edge of the bed. “I know you can’t tell me where you’re going –”

“The Four Seasons,” Bucky answered easily. “In Manhattan. I get a key from the desk and stow my bag in the room, then my client and I meet at the bar in the lobby.”

Steve’s eyes were wide. “Oh,” he breathed. “Okay. Um, what time?”

“I meet him at 10:30, then I’m booked until midnight.” There was something almost… _freeing_ about being so forthcoming with Steve, so open about this.

“Do you have another client, um, after?”

Shaking his head, Bucky said, “No. Just one tonight.”

Seeing Steve in action, leaping in to protect him like he’d done, it changed something. Bucky had trusted him before, of course, but this was more. Things that Bucky had worried about sharing, things that he feared Steve would judge him for – were bursting through his seams and he fully intended to let them loose.

“Will you please come here after? I’ll be back at around 12:30, maybe a little later.”

“I’ll be here,” Steve announced, immediately.

Bucky climbed into Steve’s lap and kissed him, hard and deep, letting Steve’s tongue into his mouth and moaning around it. Steve’s hands on his hips tightened and Bucky wanted more of it.

“I want to give you something,” Bucky panted as he pulled away. “When I get back. Okay?”

Steve’s brow was furrowed in his confusion but he nodded his head. “Of course, sweetheart. Anything.”

Bucky’s client that night was one of the sweetest clients he had; he was in his forties with a receding hairline, but he had the shyness of a younger man. Almost everything that Bucky did to him made him blush and gasp as if he’d never been touched before.

When he fucked Bucky, it was always slow and gentle, as if it were his first time.

After they finished, Bucky showered again and dressed in some more casual clothes. Since there were several nightclubs nearby, he could fit in with that crowd easily. “Goodnight, Phil,” Bucky murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you next time, baby.”

“Goodnight,” Phil murmured, blushing and touching the spot Bucky had kissed.

The trip back to Bucky’s apartment was filled with nervous anticipation. He’d made a decision and was going to be a little more… aggressive with Steve. There was no way to know how he’d respond to it but Bucky hoped Steve would like it.

Once he entered his apartment, he poured himself some water from his fridge and drank it down. His heart was pounding in his chest as he thought through what he planned to do. Just as he finished washing the glass and setting it on the rack, there came a knock at his door.

A twinge of anxiety hit him and he checked the peephole, sighing in relief at the sight of Steve. Opening the door, Bucky stepped aside and Steve walked in. “Hi, sweetheart,” Steve said, leaning in to kiss him on the lips.

“Here,” Bucky whispered, biting his lip, “I want to give you something.” He shut the door and locked it before leading Steve to the kitchen. He pulled Steve’s arms around him, laying his hands on the counter on either side of Bucky’s hips. “You work so hard to keep me safe, Daddy,” he whispered as he pressed his ass against Steve’s dick. He reveled in the sound of Steve’s startled gasp. “Don’t you think you deserve something nice?”

Steve’s body had gone rigid and Bucky could practically hear the wheels turning. Of course, he would worry that Bucky felt this was an _expectation_ when, really, Bucky had wanted to do this all along.

He wanted to show Steve.

“Baby,” Steve breathed and Bucky heard the confused desire in his voice. His dick was hardening, pressing against Bucky’s ass and his hands held the counter in a death grip. He _wanted_ this too.

“I can feel you, Daddy,” Bucky whimpered, knowing how it affected Steve, how it turned him on. When he rolled his hips again, Steve followed the motion, slowly giving in to his desire. “I think you like it.” Steve hesitated but Bucky went on, “I like it too.”

Steve’s breath hitched and it was as if the floodgates opened. He pushed forward until Bucky was trapped against the counter, though still able to move his hips, and Steve began rolling his in tandem.

“Yeah, baby?” He rasped and Bucky tore his own shirt off, nearly ripping the thin material in the process. Steve’s mouth descended on his bare neck immediately and kissed and nipped harshly at his skin. “You feel how hard you made your Daddy?”

“Mmm, yeah,” Bucky moaned.

Each time he moved his hips, he felt Steve getting harder and harder, pressing more insistently against his ass. He had begun to press more firmly against Bucky, but his hands remained glued to the counter.

“You’re doing all this for me,” Bucky whispered, rolling his hips again and again. This time when Steve tensed, Bucky knew it wasn’t because he was worried Bucky didn’t want to do what he was offering. This time, Bucky knew Steve was slipping into that role, gathering his self control, but Bucky wanted him to go a little wild. “You deserve something nice, Daddy. Let me give you something nice. Please,” he pleaded, “you deserve it.”

Bucky found himself pressed against the counter harder than before as Steve began biting his neck with a new intensity. For the first time since they had started, Steve’s hand twitched as if he wanted to move it, to grab Bucky, to _take him_.

“You think so, baby boy?” He rasped, his hot breath blowing across Bucky’s naked skin. “You think I deserve this hot little body?” Bucky was panting but he would be patient. He wanted Steve to do it, to take them there. “You think I deserve your tight ass?”

“Yes, Daddy,” he whimpered. “It’s yours, I’m yours, want you to take it, take me.”

Despite the open invitation, Steve’s hands remained clasped to the counter. Bucky noted that his knuckles were turning white and an idea struck him.

“It’s all yours, Daddy. Want you to take it, want you to come inside me.”

He felt Steve shiver behind him while his chest rose and fell with each heaving breath. “Baby, we don’t have to do that,” he said, but there was something in his voice that told Bucky how bad he wanted to do just that. “Baby,” he tried to go on but gulped.

“Daddy, take me,” he whimpered and heard Steve’s sharp intake of breath. “Come inside me, fill me up. Please, please, Daddy, need it. Wanna be full.”

Steve was like a predator about to pounce. The air around them was tense and electrified but he remained perfectly still.

“Daddy, ’m so hard,” Bucky whined as he moved his hips, grinding a little harder. “Wanna be good for you, want you to take what's yours. Please, show me I’m yours. Only yours.”

Steve’s control seemingly snapped and both of his hands were on Bucky in less than a second. He kept a tight hold on Bucky’s hip, grinding into him, while his other hand found Bucky’s hard nipple and toyed with it, tugging on the ring. Then it traveled to his throat, squeezing gently and all Bucky could do was hold on for dear life.

When Steve reached around him and began rubbing his dick through his jeans, Bucky moaned, letting his head fall against Steve’s shoulder. His hold was still tentative, though, and Bucky wanted him to give in.

“Yes, Daddy, take it, all yours, take what’s yours,” he breathed and _that_ was the final straw.

Steve growled and spun Bucky around, lifting him up and depositing him on the counter. He made quick work of Bucky’s jeans and underwear, then pushed his legs up to his chest and _groaned_ a deep, dark sound.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Bucky,” he breathed, staring down at the plug Bucky had inserted before he left the hotel. “You are something else, baby boy.”

“You like it, Daddy?”

Steve groaned, reaching out to touch the black silicone. “Oh, God yes.” He tugged on it gently, teasing.

“Please,” Bucky whispered, arching his back.

“Yeah, baby?” Steve rumbled. “You want this out?” Bucky nodded emphatically but Steve wasn’t paying attention. “Want my cock?”

“Please, Daddy, please,” he whined. “Please, take it, take what’s yours.”

Steve took hold of the base of the plug. “Mine,” he rasped, “You’re _mine_.”

Before Bucky could respond, Steve began tugging on the toy and Bucky bore down to let it slip free. “Lube, Daddy,” Bucky gasped, pointing toward the floor. “In my bag.”

Steve wasted no time. He ripped the zipper open and located the bottle quickly, then stood back up. “You want to go to the bedroom?” He rasped but Bucky shook his head.

“No, need you here, Daddy, please.”

Steve’s eyes darkened and he unbuttoned his own shirt, then unzipped his jeans, but only pushed them to his thighs. _Jesus_, he was going to fuck Bucky with his clothes still on.

“Please, Daddy,” he whimpered, watching Steve lube up. The first push of Steve’s bare cock was so incredible, Bucky moaned. He reached down to hold onto the edge of the counter as Steve held his legs up. “Oh, fuck, yeah.”

“Oh, God, baby boy,” Steve moaned. “So perfect for me, take my cock so well. Gonna make you feel so good.”

“Please,” Bucky pleaded. “This is for you.” Steve swallowed and Bucky went on. “Take what you want, I want you to. I want it so bad.”

“You want Daddy to fuck your tight ass, baby?”

Nodding, Bucky whined, “And come inside me.”

Steve’s hips jerked forward. “You want Daddy to fill you up?”

Bucky knew what Steve was doing; he recognized that Bucky wanted him to take charge but he still needed to ensure Bucky felt safe and comfortable. What appeared to be normal dirty talk was actually Steve getting Bucky’s consent.

“Fill me up, Daddy,” he whimpered. “Wanna be full.”

Steve made a punched out sound and gripped Bucky’s hips as he pulled out, his dick slipping from Bucky’s body completely.

Bucky whined, begged, pleaded, fucking _prayed_ until Steve slammed back inside him.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you, Daddy,” he breathed and Steve rumbled his approval.

The counter was just the right height for this and Bucky wondered, idly, if it was designed for sex somehow. That thought disappeared quickly when Steve changed the angle of his thrusts. Bucky cried out as Steve rubbed his prostate with expert precision, showing that he knew exactly how to take care of Bucky.

“Fuck, Daddy, wanna come,” he whimpered and Steve only fucked him harder.

“You know what Daddy wants, baby boy,” he growled. “Will you do it for me?”

Bucky whined, gripping the counter harder. “Y-you want me to come on your cock.”

“Will you, baby? Will you do that for me? I love it so much, love to see you fall apart.”

Bucky felt the tension in his abdomen and he nodded his head. “Yes, Daddy, I want to – wanna be good.”

Steve stared down at him with a mix of pride and awe, as well as dark lust. “You’re such a good boy for me, so good. You want Daddy to come inside you?”

Bucky’s eyes went wide. “Oh, Daddy, yes, I-I want it – want you to! Please?” he whimpered and Steve’s hips snapped harder. “Oh fuck, Daddy, I’m gonna come!”

Steve began thrusting harder, pistoning his hips and rubbing Bucky’s prostate just right. It was so intense, so overwhelming, Bucky shut his eyes. His toes curled and his back arched as he sobbed, coming all over himself in thick ropes of fluid.

“Daddy,” he whined as Steve continued fucking his sensitive body. “Come inside me.”

“Almost there, baby boy,” Steve rasped. “Gonna fill you up just like you want.”

“Want it,” Bucky replied, his back arched almost painfully. “In me, Daddy, _in me_.”

Steve leaned over Bucky on the counter, meeting his lips in a sloppy kiss. “Fuck, baby, gonna come.”

He thrust in as deep as he could, dislodging Bucky’s hold on the counter and shoving him a few inches. He groaned a deep, dark sound that made Bucky feel hot all over at the same time that he felt the warm, wet fluid as Steve spilled inside him. They were both sweaty and panting, lying on the granite counter.

“That was… amazing,” Bucky murmured, wrapping his arms around Steve’s shoulders.

There was a moment of hesitation before Steve asked, “You’re okay… with that?”

“Daddy,” Bucky whispered and Steve sat up, meeting his eyes. “I won’t ask you for something I don’t wholly want. I will always be honest with you.”

The tension melted out of Steve’s entire body and he sighed. “Okay, baby boy. Okay.”

“Are _you_ okay with it?” Bucky asked.

“Yes,” Steve answered immediately. “I am. I’ve… been thinking about it for a while.”

Bucky smiled. “Me too.” He took a breath and added, “I get tested every three months. I’m always safe but… I still make sure. The most recent one is in my room… if you want to see it.”

“I don’t need to,” Steve assured him, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I was tested about four months ago but I haven’t… been with anyone since.” Bucky pulled Steve’s mouth back to his, kissing him harder than before. “Did you mean it?” Steve asked when they separated for air. “You’re mine? Exclusively?”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “I’ve been yours. I’m _only_ yours.” Steve’s dick twitched inside him and Bucky gasped. “Do you like that?”

“Fuck,” Steve breathed out, “I love it. I love it so much.”

“Me too,” Bucky said, licking his lips. “You think you can carry me to the shower?”

Steve’s eyes focused on him. “Yeah,” he rasped, “I think I can do that.”

Bucky squeaked when Steve lifted him off the counter, carrying him through the apartment like he weighed nothing at all. “Fuck, I love that,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still struggling with writer's block and not much is helping :'( But I know we're closing in on the end of the story. I'm grateful for everyone's patience with this and the huge amount of support this story has gotten.  
Thank you. <3


	21. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh!! We're so close to the end. There is plot and other stuff in this chapter and I hope you enjoy it. <3
> 
> PLEASE READ  
Hi everyone - my 20-year-old cat passed away and I'm lost. I've no motivation to do much. I will be back soon I hope. Thanks.

“I need to… tell you something,” Bucky whispered, brushing his wet hair back from his face.

Steve ran the towel over his head again, squeezing more water out of it, but the look on Bucky’s face made him stop and hurry over to the bed. “What is it?”

Bucky took a shaky breath. “That guy – the one from the restaurant –” he stopped mid-sentence and Steve frowned.

Bucky was _terrified_. Steve threw the towel across the room before taking Bucky’s face in his hands and kissing him. “Take your time,” he breathed.

Eyes wide, Bucky asked, “How do you know him?”

Steve sat back a bit, though he kept his hands in place. “He works for Alexander Pierce,” Steve explained slowly, watching Bucky’s face for a response. “I’ve been investigating them.”

Bucky chewed his lip. “Pierce… you’ve been investigating Pierce? In… relation to the shooting?”

“Yes,” Steve answered, unable to slow his racing heartbeat.

Reaching out, Bucky gripped Steve’s shoulders hard and pleaded, “Stop. Stop looking into him. He – he’ll kill you. We – oh, my God, we have to stop seeing each other. He knows now.”

Steve’s eyes rounded. “Whoa, slow down,” he said but Bucky stood up.

“No, Steve,” he argued, “he _doesn’t_ quit. He’ll kill you.”

He scrubbed his face with both hands and, at that moment, Steve realized that Bucky was _trembling_. Steve stood up and tried to reach for him, but Bucky sidestepped him, grabbed his bag from the floor, and began filling it.

Panicked, Steve hurried over to him, saying, “Bucky, it’s going to be okay.”

But Bucky’s fear was palpable as he kept trying to move away. “I’m gonna get you killed, Steve,” he wept, having begun to cry. “Oh, my God.”

“Bucky, baby,” Steve whispered, again trying to touch him, “Stop, please? I’m not going to let him hurt you.”

Shaking his head, Bucky stepped out of his reach. “That doesn’t even matter,” he stated, sending Steve’s protective instincts into overdrive. “He’ll kill you and I – I can’t let you risk that. I’ll let him have me before I let that happen, I’ll–”

“Bucky,” Steve asserted, interrupting such a horrid train of thought, “I’m in love with you.” Bucky halted his movements and his mouth snapped shut. Steve moved in close, gently pulling Bucky to him. “I love you and I promise, I’m not going to let him hurt you.”

Bucky’s lip trembled but he stopped resisting and, finally, let Steve pull him closer. “I’m so scared,” he breathed against Steve’s shoulder.

“I know,” Steve murmured. “I know.” Steve held him close until Bucky’s shaking subsided, and then he led him back to the bed. “Can you tell me what you were trying to earlier?”

Bucky wiped his cheeks and nodded, sniffling. “That night… at the club,” he began, “I know who the killer is.”

Steve blinked. He’d known this fact for some time but had never expected Bucky to tell him about it. “Do you feel comfortable telling me?” He asked and Bucky nodded.

“He isn’t a regular but I’d met him before.” Shifting, Bucky tried to lean closer but struggled. “C-could you hold me?”

Steve nodded his head. “Of course, baby. Anything.”

They readjusted until Steve was on his back and Bucky was lying on his chest, with Steve’s arms wrapped around him. “His name is Aldrich,” Bucky finally confided. “Later when… Pierce propositioned me, he called Blonsky an informant.”

“How do you know this Aldrich?” Steve asked gently.

Bucky took a deep breath. “He worked for Pierce. I’d forgotten but… he was on his security detail a few times.”

Steve held him tighter. “Pierce has been after you for a while?”

“Yes,” Bucky answered in an almost vacant way. “Nat’s been fighting him but… he always gets what he wants. It’s just a matter of time.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked.

Sighing, Bucky said, “I’ve heard rumors for a while. Escorts going missing after catching his eye. Someone told me he… he buys them but they never turn back up.” He sniffled again and wiped his cheek. “They probably end up as sex slaves for Hydra.”

That made Steve’s heart skip a beat. “What do you know about Hydra?” Bucky began to shake again and Steve kissed the top of his head, ran his fingers through his hair, and held him closer. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear to you. As long as I’m alive, they won’t lay a finger on you.”

Bucky released a bitter laugh. “If you die, I won’t live much longer, Steve. You have to know that. I’ve rejected Pierce over and over and, after tonight, he won’t be asking nicely again.”

Steve snarled, “I’ll kill him.” Bucky’s breath hitched against his neck and Steve went on. “I’ll kill him and Rumlow, and anyone else who tries to put hands on you against your will.”

Bucky shivered and gripped Steve back, closing any small distance that remained between their bodies. “Daddy,” he breathed and Steve nodded.

“I won’t stop either,” he promised.

Bucky pressed his lips to Steve’s ear and whispered, “I love you. I – I loved you all those years ago and I – fuck, I love you so much.”

Steve rolled them until Bucky was on his back and Steve lay over him, kissing him deeply. It didn’t matter how many years it had taken for them to get here – nothing mattered except that they’d made it.

He could feel tears pricking his own eyes but he ignored it in favor of slipping between Bucky’s open thighs and groaning as their erections touched. _Christ_, he thought to himself, _it’s like I’m a fucking teenager again_.

They each fought to get their pajama pants off and Steve yanked the drawer open, grabbing the bottle of lube out. Bucky was still open and ready, but Steve fingered him anyway, reveling in the breathy moans he released into the kiss.

“Daddy,” he cried out. “‘m ready, I promise, so ready.”

Steve nodded his head and slipped his fingers free before lubing his bare cock up and slipping inside Bucky’s heat. Nothing had ever felt that good – he was warm and tight as Steve fucked him. He kept kissing him, recognizing how different this felt – how _intimate_ this was.

After a few more thrusts, Steve felt Bucky’s body tighten up and he moaned into the kiss as warm come splashed between them. Bucky came untouched, just as Steve liked him to. “Oh, fuck, baby boy,” Steve groaned. “You came for your Daddy? Just for me?”

“All for you,” Bucky whimpered and Steve shivered. “‘m yours,” Bucky went on, gasping as Steve’s dick continued to hit his sensitive prostate. “Daddy, come in me, ‘m yours, fill me up. Fuck, Daddy, make me sloppy with it.”

Steve had never heard something so filthy, yet so erotic, in his entire life. “Oh, fuck, baby,” he groaned. “You want it?”

“Yes!” Bucky gasped out.

“Ask me for it,” Steve growled and Bucky arched against him.

“Please,” he begged, “please, fill me up. Want it, Daddy, please, show me who I belong to.”

“Ah, fuck!” Steve slammed into Bucky one last time, his hips twitching as he came inside him.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Bucky whispered, “thank you.”

Steve kissed Bucky again, panting into it but unwilling to stop. He knew they’d need to shower again and he had the be up early, but the knowledge that Bucky loved him back, that he trusted Steve so implicitly, it was the most amazing feeling.

Their kisses slowed down, though, and Bucky whispered, “We should probably get cleaned up. I know it’s late for you.”

Steve smiled, continuing to press lazy kisses to Bucky’s lips. “I know you don’t sleep at night, usually.”

Bucky chuckled and nodded, arching into Steve’s mouth. “Come on,” he said, “let’s get you cleaned up. You have to work soon.”

After their shower, when their heads hit the pillows, Bucky fell into a deep sleep. But Steve lay awake for some time, only finally being able to sleep after gently checking that Bucky was okay more than once. His dreams that night, though, were long and dark.

When he arrived at the precinct the following morning, he’d barely sat down at his desk when Danvers approached him. “Rogers, Hill,” she called. “I need you two right now.”

He nodded, though he wasn’t in the mood for any false leads or dead ends. Knowing that Pierce was having Bucky followed; knowing what Rumlow had tried to do; and knowing that Bucky was in terrible danger, no matter if they found the shooter or not… it was wearing on him. He felt a fury in his bones.

He and Maria followed Danvers to the second floor conference room where the others waited for them. “What’s up?” Steve asked, taking another drink of his coffee.

“We have some good news and bad news,” Hope announced. “That Bitcoin money trail doesn’t lead back to Pierce but to a dummy corporation set up by his accountant’s firm. There’s no way to prove it’s connected to Pierce at all.”

Steve frowned. “Okay. Is that the good or bad news?” Maria elbowed him hard while Danvers gave him a furious look. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, looking down in embarrassment. “I know you’ve been working on this off the books and I’m truly grateful.”

“So, shut up and let us update you,” Sam demanded, frowning at him.

“Alright.” Steve leaned against the wall and waited.

“I _did_ find payments to both Billy Russo and Angela Martinelli,” Hope went on. “Based on the dates, we requested more camera footage from Le Bain and got really lucky.”

“What did you find?” Steve asked, standing up straight.

“We found Pierce.” Sam grinned with pride. “He met with both of them on the nights of significant payouts.”

“Show me,” Steve said, stepping forward.

Sam clicked on a video file and waited for the screen to load. In it, a young man that was very clearly Billy Russo was straddling Pierce on a couch, giving him a lap dance. “This is Le Bain?” Steve asked and Maria nodded.

“That’s the VIP area,” she explained.

Steve looked at the date stamp and said, “This is the night Billy was murdered.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “But the problem is, they don’t leave together.” The video continued until Billy stood up and blew Pierce a kiss before leaving the room. “After Billy left the club, Pierce stayed there for almost an hour.”

Glaring at the screen, Steve wondered aloud, “Waiting?”

“We think so,” Danvers agreed. “Pierce almost always has two bodyguards with him but, here, he only has one.”

“A coordinated attack,” he surmised. “What about Angie?”

Sam pulled the next video feed up and played it for him; on the screen, Steve could clearly make out Pierce, sitting on a couch while Angie danced in front of him. After a while, she joined him on the sofa and they began kissing.

About fifteen minutes later, they left together. As they left the VIP area, Steve’s eyes widened. “Pause it,” he said and Sam did. “There,” he said, pointing to the screen.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Maria gasped. “That’s the shooter.”

Behind Pierce stood a blond man; he followed closely as Pierce and Angie left the club. “He’s security.”

Danvers grinned. “A lot of this is circumstantial but this? This will get us access to personnel records.”

“They won’t without a warrant,” Maria said.

“I’ll get that taken care of,” Danvers announced. “Hill, Rhodey,” she directed, “get down to Pierce Investments and wait for my call. Once we get the warrant, he’ll know about it and we do not want to give him an opportunity to destroy any evidence.”

“Got it,” Rhodey said, standing and heading out, followed by Maria.

Turning back to Steve, Danvers asked, “Rogers, was it your ex-wife that you went to before?”

He sighed in annoyance. “You know she wasn’t my wife,” he groaned but she didn’t respond, so he finally added, “Yes, I did go to her.”

“I think we’ll do better trying someone else,” she said. “Come on.”

“Wait,” he called chasing after her. “You don’t mean we’re ... going to _your_ wife, right?”

Not stopping, she turned to grin at him over her shoulder. “_We _aren’t,” she answered, “_you _are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? :D


	22. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa shit. This took a very long time and I am very sorry. I've been dealing with grief and now with COVID, I have another layer because I work in a long-term care facility. I hope everyone is being safe and dealing with the "physical distancing" well. I'm not one for a lot of people so this is, like, my everyday.  
The next chapter is planned out but not started, so forgive the ongoing delays. I've been lucky to have so much energy for writing today but I can't guarantee that it will be there again tomorrow.  
You're all wonderful.

By the time Steve was pushing through the doors of Pierce Investments, Rhodey and Maria were already there, along with some uniformed officers and technical analysts. The lobby was full of people – staff and police. Steve zeroed in on the nearest computer and hurried over. Pierce’s assistant was away from her desk, being questioned somwhere, while her computer was searched.

Danvers’ wife, Maria, was a District Attorney and she’d pulled strings with Judge Lawson to get them access to Pierce’s entire database – apart from clients’ information. Steve had taken the paper warrant and ran while Danvers called Rhodey to start the search.

“Found anything yet?” Steve asked as he approached one of the analysts.

“I’m in the personnel records right now,” he replied, turning and grinning at Steve over his shoulder.

Steve nodded. “Let me know when you have something.”

“I’m your guy in the chair, sir!” The analyst exclaimed as Steve walked away.

“Ned,” Maria snapped, “just get going.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Steve,” she said as she approached him. “Pierce is in his office waiting for his attorney.”

“Letting him sweat?” He surmised and she grinned.

“So, ADA Rambeau was more receptive than Carter?”

“Much,” he replied. “Interviews being done with staff?”

“Yes,” she answered. “We brought the warrant in and everyone clammed up. But Human Resources took one look at the shooter’s photo and handed us everything.”

Even though Steve knew it already, he asked, “She got his name?”

Maria opened her notebook to check before answering, “Aldrich Killian.” She tucked it in her suit jacket pocket. “HR told us that he left the company four months ago, but she was instructed to leave him on payroll.”

Steve grinned. “That means they’ll have up to date records.”

Nodding, she said, “Ned is getting us his last known address.”

“Pierce can’t hide behind his lawyers now,” Steve asserted.

“Ned, you got news for us?” She called and rather than answer, the young tech gave them a thumb’s up.

Steve’s jaw set with determination. “Let’s go get this son of a bitch.”

Maria nodded her head toward the hallway, signaling to Rhodey and Hope that they were moving. The four of them marched past the massive windows Steve remembered from their previous visit and rounded the corner toward Pierce’s office. They were halted by a young uniformed officer, rushing toward them.

“Detective Rogers, Hill!” He panted. “He’s gone!”

Steve frowned. “Who’s gone?”

“Pierce and – and his security guard,” the officer said, pausing in front of them. “I wasn’t told to stay in his office, just watch the door. It got real quiet and I went in but they’d left!”

Steve’s face flushed with rage and he pushed his way past the officer, running to the double doors and swinging them wide open. Just as he’d said, the office was empty. Furious, Steve slammed the doors closed and spun around.

“How the fuck did he get out?” He shouted. “Is there another Goddamn exit from his office?”

“If there is,” Maria answered, her voice far more calm than Steve’s, “we need to know where it comes out at. Hope,” she added, “get Pierce’s assistant over here.”

“On it,” Hope confirmed before she hurried back toward the lobby.

“We need to get patrols looking for him,” Maria went on. “You – uh, officer…?”

“Oh,” the young man stuttered, “it’s Paxton, ma’am.”

“Office Paxton, get a BOLO out for any and all vehicles owned by Alexander Pierce – incouding cars registered to the company. If none of those turn up, widen it to Brock Rumlow or Aldrich Killian.”

“We don’t have time for that,” Steve argued. “You know how many cars a company like this must have?”

She narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t respond. Instead, she nodded to Paxton. “Get started.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, glancing at Steve before he rushed off.

“He must have an emergency exit that comes out in the parking garage,” Steve spat.

Maria gave him a look that told him exactly what she thought of his response to the situation. “Rhodey, we still need the shooter’s address. If Ned doesn’t have it now, hurry him up.”

Before she’d even finished speaking, Rhodey was gone, following behind Hope. Steve released a frustrated sigh, fear and anger bubbling up beneath his skin. If Pierce was out there, he might go after Bucky, especially now that he knew about their relationship.

_I’ve rejected Pierce over and over and, after tonight, he won’t be asking nicely again_, Bucky had said.

“Jesus, fuck,” Steve snarled. “Where the fuck is Hope with the assistant?”

“Steve,” Maria began, keeping her tone level, “how about, instead of throwing a tantrum, you put your big girl panties on and get over it?” He jerked his head toward her, eyes wide. “He’s not in the building and we don’t know how long he’s been gone. Could have been two minutes, could have been twenty. Whether we bring him in right away or not, we still have a fucking job to do, so I suggest you get your thumb out of your ass and _fucking do it._”

With that, she spun on her heel and walked away, leaving Steve staring after her with his mouth hanging open. Snapping it shut, he walked after her with his head down. They arrived back in the lobby to find Ned enthusiastically spouting information to Rhodey.

“Here’s his address and this is his phone number, plus he has a secondary line that was in Pierce’s secured files, like a secret phone, and there was a weird, like, schedule file but it didn’t have his name on it, or any Pierce Investments’ employees.”

“Whose name was on it?” Steve demanded.

“Uh, James Barnes?”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Show it to me.” Ned clicked on the mouse, pulling up a document that showed – _fuck, that’s Bucky’s client schedule_! “How did he get this?”

Ned shrugged. “It was weird. It looked like this Killian hacked into Pierce’s secured network – or maybe was given a backdoor in – and uploaded this, along with a few other documents.”

“What other documents?”

“Uh, a few more schedules, some photos, and notes about this James Barnes’ location at certain dates and times.”

“How far back?” Steve asked, leaning down to the look at the computer screen.

“Um,” Ned said, opening another document, “four months?”

“That’s when he left the company,” Maria recounted, standing on the other side of the desk.

Steve stood up straight, eyes narrowed._ What an idiot I am_, he berated himself. Killian had been following Bucky, reporting on his activities and whereabouts to Pierce for months, and Steve’d had no idea.

“Well,” Maria continued, staring straight at Steve, “it looks like you were right about the callboy.”

Steve frowned. “Yeah… looks like I was.”

He ran his fingers through his hair and looked out the window. “Steve,” Maria said in a hushed voice, “there are things you haven’t told me.”

Steve looked around them before nodding for her to follow him away from where others might hear. “There are things I never planned to tell you,” he said, meeting her eyes. “But I don’t think I have the luxury of withholding information anymore.”

Her expression hardened and Steve knew she was furious, but her voice remained level. “Alright.”

He chewed his lip for a moment before he said, “James Barnes… is my boyfriend.”

Maria blanched and her eyes went wide. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he was dating a man, a witness, or a prostitute that caused this reaction, but he didn’t have time to figure it out.

“We’ve been seeing each other for over a month.”

She swallowed. “Jesus Christ, Steve.” Despite the magnitude of his admission, she maintained her composure and spoke in a hushed voice. “Why the fuck would you ever think that was okay? You could lose your job! Not to mention, the case could get thrown out if this – if you –”

“I know,” he interrupted. “I know this isn’t ideal –”

“_Ideal_?”

“I never intended for you to find out but, now that I know he’s in danger, I need your help. _Please_.”

He could see the conflict inside her. “Steve…”

“Maria, I know I’m asking for a hell of a lot here.”

“You bet your ass you are,” she grumbled, frowning at him. “Son of a bitch. Okay, fine,” she relented and Steve’s face broke out in a smile. “So, Pierce is – what? Obsessed with your boyfriend?”

“Yes,” he answered simply.

“Oh.” She pursed her lips. “Does he know about you?”

“He does now.”

She frowned. “I take it he was obsessed with Angie and Russo too?”

“I can’t find any evidence that he even _knew_ Billy Russo before that night.” He glanced around. “I think Pierce kidnapped and tortured him because… he looks like Bu- James.”

“What a sick fuck.” Her frown deepened. “So, Pierce is out there right now. He knows James’ schedule and now he knows about your relationship.”

“Yes.”

She sighed. “What would he do? He can’t just kidnap Barnes, not with the NYPD looking all over for him.”

Steve clenched his jaw. “I don’t know. He has at least three guys helping him kidnap and murder people.” A thought occurred to him and he asked, “Do we have Jack Rollins in questioning?”

Maria turned to the lobby. “Is Jack Rollins here? He works Security.”

“No,” a young woman said. Steve assumed she was the woman from HR that Maria had mentioned. “He called in this morning.”

“Shit,” Steve hissed. Before he could say anything else, his phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out. Frowning, he looked at the ID and accepted the call. “M’Baku?”

“_Detective Rogers_,” the accented voice said. “_You must come immediately. They got Bucky – Pierce, he got him!_”

Steve’s body went cold. “What?”

“_Bucky came to Le Bain for a meeting with a new client and they grabbed him. You have to get here!_”

“What did the car look like?”

“_They knocked me out. You will… have to come here and look at the cameras_.”

Steve began to breath harder, going into panic mode, when he looked out the window again. Checking his watch, he noted the time was just after three in the afternoon and he frowned. Bucky didn’t see clients until at least nine o’clock – why would he go to Le Bain almost six hours before it opened?

_Barnes’ll come to him_, Rumlow had said.

Steve clenched his jaw. “M’Baku, stay there. I’ll be there soon.” He met Maria’s gaze. “I’m at the precinct, so it will take longer for me to get to you.” _Give myself some extra time_, he thought.

“_Please hurry, they could be doing so many terrible things to him_!”

Steve hung up and said, “Pierce plans to use me as bait to kidnap Bucky.”

Maria’s eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”

“That was the bouncer at Le Bain. I gave him my card when I interviewed him. He told me he has a deal with Bucky’s madam to look out for him.”

He could see Maria fighting her own instinct to remind him of the legalities involved in this situation, but thankfully, she did not. “Why would a callboy meet someone at a club when it isn’t even open yet?”

“He wouldn’t,” Steve agreed. “It’s a trap.”

“You have to warn James,” she advised.

“No,” Steve said. “If he knows, then he’ll come after me.”

Her eyes went wide. “Are you planning on going to Le Bain?”

“It’s how we get Pierce,” he announced. “You have a better idea?”

She frowned at him. “If something goes wrong, your boyfriend will go there anyway. You have to tell him.”

“No,” Steve asserted. “If he shows up, I’ll handle it.”

“Jesus, Rogers,” she scoffed. “You’re going to get yourself killed, then what will happen to Barnes?”

Steve clenched his jaw, imagining it. “That’s not going to happen,” he snarled.

“You should think about what might happen if it _does_.”

Steve met her eyes, his expression open. “I need your help, Maria.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think?  
I think there will be two chapters and _maybe_ an epilogue. I tend to like epilogues, so we'll see.  
Thanks for your patience everyone. <3


	23. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live! Nothing really to say except I'm sorry for how long this took. :( Thank you for reading this fic!
> 
> **CONTENT WARNING**  
This chapter deals with violent themes, unwanted sexual advances, and some traumatic events.

Bucky was still shivering no matter how many layers of blankets the paramedics had given him. He shifted on the uncomfortable metal chair, so familiar to him, yet in a vacant kind of way. Under different circumstances, perhaps he’d be angry that he was here, in this situation, _again_.

But these were not those circumstances.

The entire night had gone so horribly wrong and Bucky couldn’t stop replaying it over and over in his head. There were gunshots and he had someone’s blood on his hands; someone was screaming and Steve –

“Mr. Barnes,” an accented voice said, drawing Bucky’s attention to the open door. Standing there was a beautiful dark-haired woman with bright red lips and sharp eyes. “My name is Peggy Carter, I’m an Assistant District Attorney. May I speak with you?”

Bucky couldn’t respond – everything felt so surreal. He merely pulled the blanket tighter around himself and watched as she stepped up to the table and took the seat opposite him.

“Would you like your attorney present?” She asked and, again, Bucky didn’t answer.

He had no idea _what_ to say to that, to _any _of this.

With an exasperated sigh, Peggy dropped a manila folder onto the table. “I need you to tell me, Mr. Barnes,” she demanded, “what happened when Detective Rogers was shot?”

* * *

  
  


Bucky exited the shower and rolled his hair into a towel before drying himself off. It was just after five and he had no clients until later that night, so he pulled on a pair of sweatpants. As he was deciding what to do, his phone began to vibrate loudly against the counter top and he stepped closer.

_Steve_.

He grinned and pulled the towel off of his head before answering it. “Hey, what –”

“_Hello, James_,” a dark voice said, “_how have you been_?”

The blood rushed from Bucky’s face. “Pierce,” he gulped, “wh-where is Steve?”

“_Oh, James,_” Pierce answered, “_he’s here with me. Is that all you care about_?” Bucky didn’t answer. “_That’s… disappointing_.” In the background, Bucky could hear a muffled grunt and he covered his mouth with his hand, trying to keep from screaming. “_You see what happens when you displease me_?” Pierce went on. “_I _hurt_ people_.”

“What do you want?” Bucky exclaimed, desperately.

Pierce huffed a laugh but ignored his question. “Y_ou know, I’m shocked you would allow a man like this to touch you. Though, I suppose he is attractive… well-built. Perhaps you should let me watch you together, though I can’t imagine he can show you any pleasure. He’s… rough – a lowlife, really, James. I’m doing you a favor, I think_,” he drawled.

“Tell me what you want!” Bucky shouted, cutting off Pierce’s insane rambling.

“_You _know_ what I want,_” Pierce replied simply. “_I’ve been patient, James. I’ve allowed this… tryst to go on but I’m done waiting._” Bucky’s stomach turned queasily as he imagined Pierce’s hands on him, touching him, _forcing_ him. “_I want what belongs to me._”

A shudder rippled through Bucky while a horrible, cold feeling crept along his spine, settling deep in his brain as he realized something. If he denied Pierce… Steve would die.

_I’ll let him have me before I let that happen_, he’d said.

“How do I know that you won’t just kill him when I get there? How d-do I know he’s… even still alive?”

Pierce’s voice was almost _genuine_ when he responded, “_Because I know that would upset you_.”

Bucky shuddered. “Let me talk to him. Prove he’s alive and I’ll come.”

There was a moment of silence before Bucky heard rustling and grunting, then finally, “_Bucky_!”

“Steve,” Bucky cried, feeling his knees go weak as he slid to his bathroom floor.

“_Stay away, Bucky! Don’t _–” Then Steve was cut off, something muffling his speech as if he were gagged.

“_There_,” Pierce said. “_Now, wear that shirt – the thin one I can see through. No weapons or wires, hmm_?”

Bucky grit out, “Yes.”

“_That’s a good boy_,” Pierce cooed and Bucky almost gagged at the perversion of something Steve would say, something meant to please him and make him feel safe. “_I’ll be waiting at Le Bain. You have one hour before I start hurting him. Oh, and_,” he added, “_no cops. Do you understand me_?”

“Yes,” Bucky blurted out, hardly taking in what Pierce was saying. “I’m coming.”

“_Good_,” Pierce replied before the line went dead.

Bucky collapsed against the side of the tub, releasing heavy sobs as he shivered on the floor. “Oh, God,” he cried, grabbing his phone and dialing Natasha’s number.

She answered almost immediately. “_What is it_?”

“He has Steve,” Bucky bawled. “He has Steve and he’s gonna kill him if I – if I don’t –”

“_Jesus_,” she growled. “_J__ames__, you need to pull yourself together. You _have_ to do this._”

“What?” He demanded. “What do I do?”

“_You make him believe you want him_,” she explained in a low voice. “_You make him think he has you._”

Bucky wanted to throw up at the thought but he fought that down. Taking deep breaths, Bucky asked, “Then what?”

Nat was silent for a moment. “_You remember the Christmas gift I gave you two years ago?_”

He inhaled sharply. “You… yeah, I do.”

“_You remember how I showed you to conceal it_?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “I remember.”

“_Then you _know_ what you have to do, B__ucky__._”

Nearly forty minutes later, Bucky entered the club and his eyes immediately found M’Baku, beaten and bloody on the floor – but alive. He looked up at Bucky and so many things passed over his face – regret, anger, desperation, sorrow, and finally, shame. Next to him stood Rumlow, sporting several bruises of his own and Bucky hoped they’d come from when he’d clashed with Steve

“Ah,” Rumlow said, flashing a filthy grin at Bucky. “He’s here.”

Bucky rounded the corner and found Steve immediately. He was kneeling on the ground, with something tied around his mouth while his hands were restrained behind his back. When he saw Bucky, he screamed something that Bucky couldn’t understand, his eyes were wide, and Bucky saw in his face something he’d never seen before: Steve was terrified.

“Shut the fuck up,” Rumlow snarled and cocked his gun, pointing it at the top of Steve’s head.

Bucky trained his expression, keeping it neutral while inside, his heart was breaking. He walked further into the VIP room, noting that Rollins was nowhere to be found, though that didn’t mean he was far away.

“I’m so glad you came,” Pierce said and Bucky turned to look at him. He was reclined on the sofa with his legs crossed at the knee. “Dressed just as I asked.”

Swallowing around a dry throat, Bucky nodded his head. If he was going to get Steve out of this, he needed Pierce to believe him – believe he _wanted_ him. Bucky stepped forward, keeping his eyes on Pierce the entire time. “You told me how you wanted me, Sir.”

The corner of Pierce’s mouth turned up in a horrible smile. “And you’ll give me what I want?” He asked, eyes narrowed. “Whatever I want?”

Bucky tried to keep his expression demure, _shy_ even. He knew what kind of man Pierce was – he knew what Pierce was going to want. “Yes, Sir,” he whispered, “anything.”

Without missing a beat, Pierce pointed to his feet. “Get on your knees and crawl to me.”

Bucky grit his teeth as he did as he was told, dropping down and moving across the filthy floor, eyes trained on Pierce. When he reached the couch, Pierce reached out and let his fingers dance across Bucky’s face. He ran them along his jaw, over his lips, his cheekbones, and then dug his fingers in Bucky’s hair and yanked _hard_.

“You’ve certainly made me wait,” he snarled but Bucky kept his mouth shut. “Teased and denied me so many times, haven’t you?” When he tightened his grip, Bucky felt tears sting his eyes but he didn’t respond. “I could still kill him, you know.”

Bucky couldn’t help the sharp inhale but he cut it off immediately. It was too late, though. Pierce had heard it.

“You want me to let him live?” He queried in a soft tone and Bucky nodded his head, sure that he shouldn’t speak yet. “Beg me,” Pierce ordered. “Beg me and tell me what you’ll give me if I let him go.”

Bucky swallowed. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, h-he’s nothing. I’ll…” he trailed off and Pierce jerked his head again, forcing him to release a shocked cry.

There was movement to the side and he knew Steve was struggling against the binds, watching Bucky suffer and unable to protect him. _This time_, Bucky thought, _I’m going to protect _you_._

“You’ll _what_?” Pierce demanded.

Bucky opened his mouth and reached up, running his hands over Pierce’s thighs. “Let me… show you, Sir. Please, let me show you.”

Pierce narrowed his eyes but his grip loosened a bit. “You can show me…” he agreed, running his thumb along Bucky’s lower lip, then he added, “but he’s going to watch.”

There was more commotion as Steve fought harder but Bucky didn’t look. Licking his lips, he slowly crawled into Pierce’s lap and ran his hands over his grey suit. He leaned down and kissed him, feeling Pierce use his hold Bucky’s hair to control it, forcing his tongue into Bucky’s mouth, dominating him.

“Get the fuck down!” Rumlow shouted behind him but Bucky couldn’t move and Pierce didn’t seem concerned.

Bucky heard Steve grunt in pain before a louder thump drew Pierce from the kiss. He shouted, “What the fuck is – fucking get him back down!”

At that moment, Bucky reached behind him into the back of his pants and pulled the cool metal free. Pierce’s complete attention was on the raucous on the other side of the room and Bucky pressed the button, feeling the blade spring open.

“Just fucking _shoot him_!” Pierce exclaimed just before Bucky rammed the switchblade into the side of his neck.

He gurgled and choked as blood poured from the wound, but he wasn’t dead. Using his hold on Bucky’s hair, he yanked him to the floor, though Bucky hadn’t released the knife. He pulled it out, trying to jerk away from Pierce but his hold was too strong.

“Let me go, you fucker!” He bellowed, twisting Pierce’s fingers.

Then more hands were on him and he screamed, fighting with everything he had as Pierce’s hand disappeared and someone was holding his wrist. “Bucky!” Steve shouted, gently touching Bucky’s cheek and slowly taking hold of the knife. “Let go, it’s okay,” he was saying but Bucky couldn’t hear him – not really. “Baby, it’s okay, it’s –”

Then there was a sound, so loud and close, it hurt his ears, but it was familiar too. A sound he’d never wanted to hear again. Opening his eyes, Bucky found Steve there, falling backward into a puddle of blood and everything stopped in that moment.

Rumlow was down and M’Baku’s fists were still raised but none of them had remembered Rollins. He stood in the doorway, gun pointed at Steve with such a blank expression on his face, it sent cold shivers down Bucky’s spine.

“No,” he gasped as he dropped to the floor, following Steve down. “No, no, no, no.” Steve gasped and coughed, gritting his teeth against the pain and Bucky could see exactly where the bullet had struck him in the chest. “No, Steve, please, Steve, I – I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault, I –”

But before Bucky could finish, another shot rang out and he knew it was a bullet aimed at him. No matter how he’d come into this, he had known – deep down – that he was going to die. Whether tonight or after a few months, Pierce would kill him.

Except there was no pain, no blinding agony.

Turning, he watched Rollins collapse to the floor in a loud thump, holding his hand over a wound in his belly. Bucky looked down and found that Steve had Rumlow’s gun and he’d used it to save Bucky’s life.

“Steve?” Bucky breathed and Steve smiled at him.

“Are you alright?” He asked as if he weren’t the one who’d been _shot_.

Before Bucky could even open his mouth to respond, a loud crash echoed and Detective Hill rushed into the room with her gun raised, followed by four more cops Bucky had never seen. “Steve,” she exclaimed, “are you hit?”

“Yeah, but,” Steve began and Bucky looked down at him. Steve pulled at his shirt, tugging the fabric away to reveal a bullet proof vest and directly over his heart was the bullet Rollins had fired.

“Get paramedics in here,” Hill shouted and one of the others nodded, pulled out her cell phone, and called 9-1-1. “Rhodey, can you put some pressure on that?” She pointed to Rollins, still bleeding out on the floor.

“No, no,” he groaned in pain as a black detective knelt down, “just let me die.”

“Not happening, pal,” Rhodey said.

“Where were you?” Steve asked, sitting up a bit. “I said to be ready.”

Holstering her gun, Maria scoffed. “That would have been fine if _this_ one,” she gestured to Rollins, “hadn’t been keeping watch.”

Bucky sat back on his knees, looking around them at the carnage they’d survived. When he looked at himself, though, he realized that he was _covered_ in blood – it was all over his clothes, his hands, and had seeped through his shirt to his chest.

It was at that moment that Bucky passed out.

  
  


–

  
  


“Alright,” Steve said, entering the interview room. “That’s enough, Peggy.”

“I’m not finished with my interview,” she defended but Steve shook his head.

“I’m taking Bucky home,” he snapped, making his way to Bucky’s side and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “He’s still covered in blood, for Christ’s sake!”

Peggy stood up and cocked a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “You aren’t usually this… forceful.”

Something about her tone made Bucky blink but Steve didn’t let her continue. “Come on,” he murmured to Bucky, “let’s go.”

Bucky could only nod his head as Steve led him out of the interrogation room, down the stairs, and out of the precinct where a car was waiting for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? :D


	24. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! This is so bittersweet. There will be one final chapter after this and a short epilogue (because I love them).  
This story started out as a completely different idea and morphed into something I really love. Writing Daddy Kink was never something I planned to do but I'm so glad I did. <3  
Thanks to Dixons_Mama for being so supportive and awesome through this and every story.

The uniformed officer drove them to Steve’s apartment, conspicuously keeping his eyes on the road the entire time. Steve appreciated the gesture as Bucky had his face pressed into Steve’s neck, taking shuddering breaths. Steve felt almost the same amount of desperation – the same need to feel Bucky was alive, there with him. He had never been more terrified in his life than he was when Bucky walked into that club.

Nothing had gone as he’d planned. Upon entering the VIP room, Steve was immediately attacked by Rumlow. He fought back hard, getting in a few good hits before he was hit over the back of the head and fell to his knees.

He shouldn’t have been so _stupid_. He should have known there would be more than one of them.

They quickly restrained and gagged him before taking his phone and using it to call Bucky.

The officer stopped outside his building and Steve was dragged from his thoughts. “Thanks, Officer Paxton,” he said, then eased Bucky out of the car, taking slow and deliberate steps.

“No problem, sir,” he called back as Steve shut the door.

They made their way inside and then into the elevator; the ride felt like it took hours while Bucky stared at the wall. Once they’d finally entered the apartment, though, it was as if all of Bucky’s strength seeped out of him and he fell against Steve.

“Bucky,” Steve gasped, using his hold on Bucky’s waist to help him down safely, while Steve knelt next to him.

“Steve,” Bucky breathed, grabbing Steve’s shoulders in a tight, desperate hold, as if he might disappear at any moment. “He almost – you would’ve –”

Steve shook his head. “I’m here, I’m okay. We’re okay.” They were kneeling on the floor of Steve s entryway still.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Bucky chanted in his ear and Steve felt tears in his own eyes. “I love you – I –”

“I love you too, Bucky,” Steve murmured. “You’re safe. It’s over.”

Bucky’s body shook with heavy sobs and Steve held him tighter, knowing that Bucky was smearing Pierce’s blood all over his shirt. He gently pulled out of Bucky’s grip only to touch his face, cradling his head and kissing him.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” he whispered when they separated.

Bucky frowned. “B-but they – should we go back? They want my –”

“I don’t give a fuck what they want,” Steve asserted and stood from the floor, ignoring the throbbing pain in his shoulders and neck. Reaching out, he took Bucky’s hands and helped him up as well. “I’m going to take care of you tonight. You can give your statement tomorrow.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide. “You’ll – you’re going to… to stay, right?”

Steve’s face softened into what he knew was a dopey, affectionate smile. “Nothing’ll keep me from you, sweetheart.” Shoulders slumping in relief, Bucky relaxed as Steve hustled him into the kitchen. “Come here,” he said, leading Bucky to the sink and turning the water on.

There was, indeed, blood all over his hand and wrist, as well as some spray on his shirt and up his neck. It soaked through to his skin, leaving splotches on his chest.

“Let’s get this off,” Steve whispered as he tugged on the garment until Bucky lifted his arms, allowing it to slip free.

Checking the water, Steve ensured it was warm before he began washing the blood away. Based on how easily Bucky was allowing this all to happen, Steve knew it wouldn’t be safe to put him in a bath or shower.

Not yet.

“You almost died,” Bucky said suddenly and Steve turned to him. His eyes were wide and wet and Steve could still see the terror in them. Bucky yanked his hand free from Steve’s grip and took Steve’s face in both hands, smearing water and blood across his cheek. “Rollins almost killed you _right in front of me_.”

Steve gulped. “Yes.” He stepped into Bucky’s space and held his gaze. “But I’m here. I’m _right here_, sweetheart.” Bucky’s eyelids fluttered shut and he swayed in Steve’s hold, dropping his hands to Steve’s shoulders. “What do you need?” Steve asked.

Bucky shivered. “I need… I need to feel you, Daddy.”

Everything clicked into place in Steve’s mind and he knew what he needed to do. “Let’s go shower, baby boy.”

“Please,” Bucky whimpered and Steve gently lifted him by the thighs, carrying him through the apartment.

Once in the bathroom, Steve set Bucky down and said, “I’m going to undress you, okay?” Bucky nodded and Steve slowly unzipped his jeans, drawing them down. Kneeling on the floor, Steve removed Bucky’s shoes and socks before standing again. Reaching into the shower, he checked and rechecked the water, testing it for the right temperature.

When he was satisfied that he could ease Bucky into a safe headspace, Steve began undressing himself. Bucky reached out to touch him but Steve grabbed his wrists in a gentle hold.

“This isn’t about sex,” he declared, holding Bucky’s gaze. “I’m going to take care of you – I’m going to wash you and dry you, then get you warm and safe in bed.”

Bucky’s eyes fluttered. “O-okay, Daddy.”

Slowly, Steve led Bucky into the shower and helped him under the spray. He used soap first, washing the blood from Bucky’s face, neck, and chest, while Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders. He leaned in close and pressed his lips to Steve’s neck as the spray rinsed it away.

“Here,” Steve whispered, taking one of Bucky’s hands and gently scrubbing the blood away.

Bucky watched him work before holding his other hand out for Steve to wash. When the water was no longer tinged pink, Steve used the shampoo on Bucky’s hair and followed it with the conditioner he loved. While Bucky relaxed, Steve washed himself quickly, wincing as the water sprayed over his cuts. The EMT had used steristrips on his brow and forehead, where Rumlow had beaten him worst, but he was alright otherwise. He removed the bandages and then shut the water off.

Steve murmured praises into Bucky’s ear as they stepped out of the shower. Using one of his softest towels, Steve began drying Bucky’s body, then his hair, before collecting some pajamas for him.

“I’m going to get you dressed,” Steve explained as he knelt at Bucky’s feet, lifting one leg at a time to put his pants on. Bucky still looked dazed, lost even, as he watched Steve work. “Are you thirsty, sweetheart?”

“No,” Bucky answered, shaking his head. “Tired.”

There was a small bruise forming on Bucky’s cheekbone, one on his neck, and another on his temple from when he’d struggled with Pierce. Regardless of the knowledge that Pierce was dead, that Bucky had saved himself, a heady mix of emotions began to build inside of him. In that club, Bucky had been willing to give himself to Pierce in order to save Steve’s life; he’d been willing to _die_ for Steve.

“You’re so brave,” he whispered, standing up and picking Bucky up by his thighs. This wasn’t sexual – it was clear that Bucky was in no state of mind to consent, not that Steve could even think about sex at that moment. “You were so brave and I’m so proud of you.”

Bucky shivered at the praise. “I – I’m sorry… I had to let him… touch me.”

“I don’t care about that,” Steve asserted, setting Bucky down on the edge of the bed. “I know you didn’t want it. _I’m_ sorry you had to do that. I should’ve been smarter going in there.”

“You saved me,” Bucky whispered, reaching for Steve’s pants. “Please, Daddy, let me –”

“_No_,” Steve emphasized and Bucky’s eyes fell. “We aren’t going to do that, sweetheart. Not tonight.” Bucky’s lip trembled and Steve leaned in to kiss him. “Not tonight,” he repeated and Bucky turned his gaze to Steve’s chest, eyes going horribly wide.

“Oh, my God,” he gasped, one hand coming up to cover his mouth.

Steve frowned and looked at himself, finding a large purple bruise blooming over his heart where the bullet had hit his vest. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the first time Steve had been shot but it was the closest call he’d ever had.

… and Bucky had seen it happen.

“I’m here,” Steve whispered, taking Bucky’s face in his hand and lifting it to meet his gaze. “I’m right here.” He took Bucky’s wrist and pressed his palm over the bruise gently. “Feel me,” he pleaded, “feel my heartbeat.”

Bucky began to tremble and weep, releasing heavy sobbing breaths. Steve wrapped his arms around him until he calmed enough that Steve could get him into the bed and slide in next to him.

That night, Steve held Bucky tighter than he ever had before. When Bucky’s breathing evened out, Steve lay awake for some time, crying silent tears of his own.

Hours later, snapped into awareness, hearing Bucky’s muffled screams and he shot up, pulling Bucky against him and holding him close. “Baby, we’re safe,” he whispered, “we’re safe. We’re home. I’m here. I’m safe.”

Bucky’s terrified cries faded to whimpers and, finally, to tears as he slowly came out of his nightmare. “You were dying,” he bawled. “I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t stop the bleeding.” Bucky covered his face with both hands, hiding as he wept. “I watched you die.”

Steve kissed his fingers and touched his hair. “I’m right here.”

Bucky looked at him then. “Daddy,” he breathed, touching Steve’s face and body, feeling for wounds or injuries. Feeling for _life_.

“I’m here,” Steve soothed, running his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “I’m alright.”

“You died,” Bucky hiccuped but Steve shook his head.

“I didn’t,” he promised. “I couldn’t leave my best guy.”

Bucky’s shivers eventually faded as Steve touched him, keeping his hands gentle. He found sleep again but it was uneasy; Steve was almost afraid to drift off, worried that Bucky might wake up and need him.

When he did eventually fall into oblivion, he dreamed that Rumlow was dragging Bucky away and he could do nothing to save him.

  
  


* * *

_Two Weeks Later_

The bruise on his chest was a faded yellow but Steve knew that, to Bucky, it was a permanent mark. A constant reminder of what _could_ have happened.

They hadn’t had sex since that night, not that Steve didn’t want to, and it was obvious that Bucky did as well. His hands wandered at times but he never pushed too far, seeming to sense Steve’s hesitance. As he did, Steve always kept perfectly still, ignoring his growing erection and allowing Bucky to take the lead.

He couldn’t pretend he didn’t want Bucky – didn’t want to please him and make love to him, but he knew it wasn’t the time. He was determined to wait as long as Bucky needed, as long as it took for him to feel safe again.

That wasn’t the only thing that had changed. Natasha had demanded that Bucky take time off and, for once, he hadn’t argued. Steve didn’t know how to ask if he’d want to return to work after everything that had happened, nor did he think he _should_ ask.

Bucky would bring it up when he was ready, Steve knew.

One night, Bucky’s head lay on Steve’s chest with Steve’s arms wrapped tightly around him. It was nearly four and Steve knew that Bucky would soon wake, trembling and crying, having seen Steve die again.

He didn’t scream anymore, didn’t desperately touch Steve’s chest to check for gunshot wounds or blood. It was clear that Bucky had begun to heal but… he was still afraid.

Steve’s sleep was hardly easy, wanting to be awake if Bucky woke up afraid. They hadn’t been apart for one night and Steve spent as much of his time with Bucky as he could. When it was revealed that he’d been in a relationship with a witness, Fury had opted not to suspend him, though he _was_ put on desk duty.

While it was less than ideal, Steve was grateful for the set hours. It ensured that he could cook Bucky’s dinner and take care of him. He didn’t like leaving Bucky alone for so long…

An idea struck Steve then and he couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face. The following morning, while Bucky showered, Steve grabbed his phone and walked into the living room. Once there, he googled the information he needed and dialed the number.

A woman’s voice answered, “_NYC Rescue. How can I help you_?”

“I need to speak to Janet Van Dyne,” Steve said, glancing over his shoulder. “I need to find out about a dog.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think? <3


	25. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue is all we have left.  
TT-TT Man, I'm not crying, you're crying.  
It's been a lot of fun to explore new kinks and ideas! I'm so happy to have shared this fic with you all! <3  
Thanks for being great. <3

“Come on, boy,” Steve encouraged, leading the large dog down the hallway to his apartment. “Bucky should be home. Are you excited?” The dog’s mouth hung wide open as he smiled up at Steve. Unlocking the door, Steve asked with a grin, “Ready?”

As the door swung open, he unhooked the leash and the dog rushed inside, his claws clicking on the wood floors. There was rustling from inside as Bucky approached the entryway, eyes wide. Shock gave way to joy as Bastille ran toward him, his entire body wagging in his excitement.

“Bastille?” He gaped, dropping to one knee. “Oh, my God, what are you – Steve?”

“It’s a nice place you’ve got here,” a woman’s voice said and Steve turned.

“Thanks, Janet,” he replied, smiling at the older woman.

“Janet?” Bucky asked, standing up. “What, uh, what are you doing here?”

She smiled, brushing her white hair out of her face. “We’re doing a home visit as part of the adoption process.”

“Adoption?” He echoed in confusion.

“Yep,” she said, “Steve called me a few days ago to set it up.”

Bucky frowned. “Steve?”

Steve grinned. “You told me that your job wasn’t conducive to having a dog, but… well.” He knelt down to rub Bastille’s head. “I think you and I can make it work together.”

“Is it okay if I take a look around?” Janet asked, clearly meaning to give them some time alone and Steve nodded.

Once she’d walked away, Bucky closed in on Steve. “Are you sure? This is – this is a big decision.” He ran his fingers through his long hair and looked away. “Don’t do this just for me. If you… if you regret this, Steve, I’ll –”

“Bucky,” Steve interrupted, touching Bucky’s cheek gently. “Baby,” he breathed and Bucky’s eyelids fluttered. “I’ve thought this through. We can do this.”

Bucky chewed his lip. “My apartment doesn’t allow pets, especially not pit bulls.”

“Mine does,” Steve explained.

“What about during the day?” Bucky fished and Steve took a deep, calming breath.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” he finally said, “about where we’re at and where we’re headed.” Bucky’s eyes widened as Steve spoke, but he didn’t interrupt. “I know it’s soon but I…”

Steve trailed off as he dug in his jeans pocket until he found what he was looking for. Pulling it out, he held his hand out for Bucky.

“Steve…” Bucky gasped, looking at the key. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, pulling Bucky closer and pressing their lips together. “I love you.”

Bucky’s eyes were misty but he threw his arms around Steve’s neck and deepened the kiss. Steve couldn’t help the breathy moan he released when Bucky opened his mouth to let Steve’s tongue in. It would have gone on, except Janet cleared her throat and Bucky jerked away, flushed from the kiss and embarrassment, Steve was sure.

“So,” she said, cocking her eyebrow with a grin, “I’ll leave the adoption paperwork on the counter?”

Steve nodded, blushing himself. “Yeah,” he said, walking her to the door as Bastille trotted along. “We’ll get it filled out and come by this week.”

Bucky rushed over and kissed Bastille’s head. “I’ll see you soon,” he promised and Bastille grinned.

As the door shut behind Janet, Bucky was on Steve, kissing him and pulling him close. “Baby,” Steve groaned, “we can go slow. You don’t have to –”

“Want you, Daddy,” Bucky whimpered and Steve had to shut his eyes.

_God_, he thought to himself, _I missed that sound_.

“Okay, baby,” he answered, “okay. Can I take you to bed?”

Bucky nodded and gripped Steve’s shoulders before jumping up and wrapping his legs around Steve’s hips. Steve caught him easily and carried him through the apartment. When they reached the bed, he laid him down and crawled on after him.

Kissing down Bucky’s jaw and over his neck, he asked, “You okay?”

“Yes, yeah, Steve,” Bucky rasped and Steve halted his movements.

“What did you call me?”

Bucky moaned, arching his neck. “_Daddy_,” he corrected, “please. Please.”

Steve growled and ripped his shirt over his head. “I want to use my hand,” he said, reaching for Bucky’s white tee. “I want to feel you come all over me.”

“Jesus,” Bucky gasped. “Yeah, do it, Daddy.”

Bucky was wearing sweatpants which allowed Steve to undress him easily. Leaning down, he took Bucky’s cock in his mouth, working to get it nice and wet while he pushed his own pants down. Bucky gasped, reaching down to grip Steve’s hair in his hands and Steve moaned around him. He was too impatient to remove his jeans entirely, so he pushed them to his mid-thigh and let Bucky slip from his mouth.

“Daddy,” Bucky whined but Steve shushed him, crawling up his body and pressing a filthy kiss to his lips.

He took both of their cocks in his hand and began stroking, moaning at the sensation. Bucky brought his thighs up to bracket Steve’s hips as he thrust into Steve’s grip. “Tell me,” Steve rasped, “when you’re getting close.”

Bucky nodded, though his eyes were closed. Steve let them go and reached into the drawer, ignoring Bucky’s whines of protest. Grabbing the lube, he popped the cap and drizzled some over his dick, hissing at the chill. When the lid was shut, he tossed it aside and wrapped his hand around them again. Bucky’s tip was beading with pre-come already and Steve began stroking faster.

“I’m gonna edge you,” he announced. “That okay?”

Bucky groaned. “Yeah, Daddy,” he rasped. “Come on, I want it.”

Steve moaned, shocked by Bucky’s excitement. “Such a good boy.”

“Uhn, Daddy –” Bucky cried out.

“Just let me,” Steve interrupted, dropping down onto his forearm. “Let Daddy get you there.”

Bucky bit his lip as he watched Steve through hazy eyes. His hair was a mess and his neck and chest were flushed; he was breathing heavily, too, his chest rising and falling quickly.

“I’m close,” he hissed and Steve slowed his hand to a snail’s pace. Bucky whined in frustration, his hips jerking in aborted little movements as he tried to chase pleasure. “Daddy!”

Steve shushed him. “You’re being so good for me.”

Bucky’s face relaxed a bit and he opened his eyes to look at Steve. “Daddy, please.”

“Tell me what you want, baby,” Steve said.

“Uhn,” Bucky whimpered, “wanna… wanna go again.”

“Are you ready? Or do you think you’ll come?”

“No, I – I’ll be good, I promise,” Bucky swore.

“You _are_ good for me,” Steve assured, pulling Bucky into a kiss as he began moving his hand again. He licked into Bucky’s mouth and groaned, nipping Bucky’s bottom lip. “You feel so good, baby.”

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky gasped. “I – fuck, I’m getting close.” Again, Steve slowed his pace and Bucky whined. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Is it too much?” Steve asked against Bucky’s neck.

Bucky swallowed. “No, it – it’s… fuck, I wanna come, Daddy, I’m – but I want to… please you. Want to be your good boy.”

Steve thought he’d go cross-eyed and combust. “Oh, my fucking God.” Inhaling a shaky breath, Steve began to move his hand again, watching as Bucky’s dick leaked pre-come all over his hand.

“Daddy, if you – fuck, I’m too close, please, Daddy,” Bucky whimpered, digging his hands in Steve’s hair. “St-stop, stop, I’m gonna come, please, stop.”

“You’re my good boy,” Steve growled, licking a stripe up Bucky’s neck. “I’m gonna make my good boy come all over me.”

Bucky sobbed. “Please, Daddy, I’m – I can’t stop, fuck!” He cried out, thrusting his hips into Steve’s fist as he came, shooting across their abdomens and up Steve’s chest. “I’m sorry, I – I didn’t mean to, I –”

“Baby,” Steve whispered, kissing Bucky hard. “You’re so good. I’m so proud of you. Made us so messy, baby.”

“But…” Bucky looked down. “Daddy, you didn’t…”

Steve smiled. “Do you want me to come too?”

Bucky bit his lip and nodded his head. “Want you to make us messy too.”

“Jesus, baby,” Steve murmured as he slowly began moving his hand again, but he didn’t release Bucky’s softening dick. Bucky whined at the overstimulation but it shifted into a moan when Steve kissed him. “You want me to come?”

“Come on me, Daddy,” Bucky gasped.

Steve leaned down, pressing his chest to Bucky’s as his abdomen clenched. “Oh, fuck, oh, God, baby,” he rasped, burying his groans in Bucky’s neck as he came hard.

As he released them both, Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck. “C-can we… keep going?”

“You want more?” Steve grinned, kissing Bucky’s lips. “You want Daddy to eat you out?”

“_Oh_,” Bucky moaned. “Please, Daddy, love it when you do that.”

Steve nodded. “Should I clean you up first?”

Bucky shook his head. “Just gonna make a mess of me again,” he whispered.

Steve’s dick twitched as he shuffled down the bed, pushing Bucky’s thighs against his chest. He loved eating Bucky out, loved how he shook in his pleasure, and released the most delicious, needy sounds Steve had ever heard.

He didn’t make Bucky wait but that didn’t mean he rushed; he’d savor every moment. Bucky buried his hands in Steve’s hair and moaned when Steve licked inside him, opening him up gently. Steve lost himself in it – in the rhythm, the way Bucky’s body clenched down on him, and how he shuddered and shivered.

“Daddy,” he whimpered, “please, I want it. I want you.”

“You have me, sweetheart,” Steve assured.

“No, you know what I mean!” Bucky cried.

Steve couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “I know, but…” He sat up and gripped Bucky’s hips, yanking him down the bed, making him gasp. “I can’t help how much I love seeing you like this.” Steve leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to Bucky’s lips.

“Daddy…” Bucky whispered.

“What do you need, baby boy?”

Bucky moaned. “Can you fuck me, Daddy? Please, I want you inside me.”

Steve nodded and picked up the lube again. “I’m gonna get you ready. Are you okay? Or do you need a break?”

“No, no,” Bucky asserted. “I don’t need a break, Daddy, I can keep going.”

Steve slicked up his fingers and adjusted them so he could gently press his finger against Bucky’s ass. “You sure?” He leaned in to whisper against Bucky’s ear. “Because I’m not going to go easy, baby boy. I’m gonna get you all wet and loose, stuff you full of my cock, then I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’ll be feeling me for days.”

Bucky’s breathing had picked up as Steve spoke. “Please,” he gasped, trying to rock down and take Steve’s finger. “Please, don’t – don’t tease me. I – I’ve been good, haven’t I? I –”

Steve cut him off by slowly and steadily pressing two fingers inside him until he was flush with Bucky’s perineum. “You’re always my good boy,” Steve rumbled, crooking his fingers and nipping at Bucky’s earlobe, reveling in the desperate sounds Bucky choked out.

Steve rubbed his prostate with precision, groaning at the tight feel of Bucky’s body. Even though they’d both come not that long ago, Steve was hard already and Bucky’s dick was filling again. Steve began thrusting and twisting his hand, spreading the lube inside Bucky’s body.

“Uhn, Daddy,” Bucky whimpered and Steve growled.

“You want another?” He rasped and Bucky nodded his head; his eyes were shut tight and his mouth hung open as he gasped in breaths. “You’re so beautiful,” Steve murmured. “So lucky I have you. Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“All yours, Daddy,” Bucky rambled, “only wanna be yours.”

Steve inhaled sharply before pressing a third finger in alongside the others. “You want that, sweetheart?” He rumbled. “Want Daddy to keep you and take care of you, just how you need?”

Bucky continued to rock down onto Steve’s fingers, his face scrunched up in absolute pleasure. “Please, Daddy,” he stammered out, “please, I want it.”

Everything in Steve seemed on the verge of bursting into flames. He’d seen Bucky desperate and needy, seen him beg, but there was something so wanton about him then. His skin was flushed with a sheen of sweat across it; his knuckles were white where they clenched the blankets; and his cock was fully hard, leaking against his belly.

“You want Daddy’s cock?” Steve asked as he twisted his wrist, spreading lube as deep as he could.

“Please, I – I need it.”

Bucky was moving confidently, fucking himself down on Steve’s fingers. Frowning, Steve grabbed the back of Bucky’s thigh and pushed it against his chest, ceasing his movements.

“No, Daddy, please, please,” Bucky pleaded, sobbing in his desperation.

Steve cocked an eyebrow. “I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge, baby boy,” he rumbled, pressing the tips of his fingers more directly against Bucky’s prostate. “I’m the one who gives you what you need. Are you going to be a bad boy?”

He sobbed and grabbed his other leg, pulling it against his chest. “No, I – I promise, I’ll be good. I’ll be patient, Daddy.”

“Who gives you what you need, baby boy?” Steve asked, crooking his fingers while his thumb rubbed Bucky’s perineum.

“You do, only you,” Bucky gasped, throwing his head back.

“There’s my good boy,” Steve purred. “Always so good for me.”

Steve could tell that Bucky was getting more and more desperate, but he held still and allowed Steve to open him up, slowly and gently. Leaning down, Steve took one of Bucky’s balls in his mouth, sucking gently, and Bucky arched his back off the bed.

“D-Daddy, I’ll come, please, I wanna be good, please!”

Steve released him and carefully eased his fingers out. “You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” Bucky whispered, “‘m your good boy?”

Pressing a hot kiss to Bucky’s lips, Steve said, “You’re always my good boy.”

Bucky’s eyes were glassy and his expression was so relaxed, even though he was about to blow. Steve loved seeing Bucky like that, deep in the headspace where he so easily allowed Steve to take care of him. Steve maneuvered Bucky’s legs over his shoulders and scooted closer.

“You’ve earned this, baby,” he rasped, angling his dick against Bucky’s ass and pressing in. Bucky’s body gave way with very little resistance and Steve moaned at the tight, silky heat that encompassed him. “Always so perfect for me.”

Despite his desperation only moments before, Bucky’s body went limp as Steve bottomed out. Steve leaned down, bending him in half, and kissed him, shoving his tongue in Bucky’s mouth. Reaching out, Steve grabbed a pillow to shoved under Bucky’s hips. The angle was perfect, Steve could tell, and he abused it, thrusting his hips hard and fast.

“Daddy!” Bucky cried out, gripping Steve’s hair with both hands.

“Be good for me,” Steve panted, “you’ve earned this.”

Bucky sobbed. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

“Oh, honey,” Steve mused, “you take me so well.” Before Bucky could answer, Steve began thrusting harder. “You’re hard for Daddy, aren’t you?”

“Yeah! Yes, Daddy, just for you, so hard,” Bucky rambled.

“You know what Daddy wants,” Steve went on, leaning back and holding onto Bucky’s thighs as he began thrusting harder.

“Y-yeah, Daddy, I – fuck, that’s so hot, feels so fucking good.” Bucky threw his head back. “So hot, Daddy.”

“You like when Daddy fucks you hard?” He asked, punctuating the question with a hard thrust.

Bucky released a choked out moan and came, shooting milky white all over his belly as Steve fucked him through it. Watching Bucky fall apart had long since become Steve’s favorite pastime. Bucky’s eyes were shut tight and his mouth had fallen open as he released a low moan.

“Daddy,” Bucky stammered out, body jerking every time Steve thrust against his prostate.

“Do you need me to stop?” Steve asked, slowing his hips.

“No, no,” Bucky croaked, reaching around to grab Steve’s hips in an attempt to make him move again. “Please, fuck me, Daddy, come inside me.”

“Baby,” Steve moaned, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No, Daddy, please,” Bucky pleaded, “use me. Wanna feel you come in me.”

“Jesus, Buck,” Steve groaned, moving more confidently, knowing he was still making Bucky feel good. “You’re so tight, baby, so good for me.”

“Wanna be good, Daddy,” Bucky breathed. “Wanna be your good boy.”

“Fuck,” Steve growled, thrusting once, twice, three times more before his pleasure crested, washing over him in waves. “Oh, fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, rocking his orgasm out in Bucky’s ass. “You’re so good.”

Steve gently let Bucky’s legs down and removed the pillow from beneath his hips before he pulled out. Bucky whimpered but Steve shushed him, pressing kisses to Bucky’s lips, nose, and forehead.

“I’m going to get you cleaned up,” he said, standing up. Bucky didn’t answer; he just continued to lay there, eyes shut. When Steve returned with a warm washcloth, Bucky was pliant and allowed Steve to wipe him down. “I’m going to run a bath, okay?”

“Nnn, Daddy,” Bucky breathed and Steve realized that Bucky was still under.

“Okay,” he whispered, lifting Bucky off the bed and carrying him to the bathroom. He grabbed a towel and laid it on the counter before setting Bucky there. “Stay here.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Bucky replied, groggily.

Steve turned the water on in the tub and adjusted it repeatedly until he was satisfied. Then he let it fill for a few moments before he returned to Bucky and lifted him again.

“Bucky,” he said, “open your eyes.” Bucky complied and looked at Steve. “The water is hot and I need to know you’re okay.”

Nodding, Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve’s neck. “You take such good care of me, Daddy.”

Steve sighed in relief and slowly lowered them both into the water. Once they were seated, he maneuvered Bucky until his back pressed to Steve’s chest, then he gently began washing Bucky down. He made sure to scrub the drying come from his chest and belly before cleaning his swollen ass.

“Was Daddy too rough?” Steve asked but Bucky shook his head.

“Felt so good, Daddy,” he answered.

“I didn’t hurt you?”

“No,” Bucky said, “I promise.”

Steve kissed along Bucky’s shoulder and neck, up to his jaw. “I’m going to make us some dinner after this, okay?”

“I want pizza,” Bucky whispered and Steve chuckled.

“I’ll order pizza then.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” Bucky looked at Steve over his shoulder. “You take such good care of me.”

“That’s all I want, baby,” Steve assured, meeting Bucky’s gaze. “You’re all I want.”

“I love you, Steve.”

“I love you, Buck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think? <3


	26. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are.  
This is the end.  
And I'm sad but so happy.  
Thanks for coming on this journey with me. <3

_Epilogue_

“You’re going back to work?” Steve’s eyes were wide and a smile tugged at his lips.

“Yeah, I…” Bucky ran his fingers through his hair. “Natasha told me that a few of my regulars didn’t take kindly to my… absence and started working with someone else.” He walked over to the couch and sat next to Steve, nudging Bastille over. “I’m going to have to build myself back up.”

Steve frowned. “What will that be like?”

“A lot more new clients,” Bucky explained. “But most of my regulars are sticking with me.”

“With the new clients,” Steve hedged, “will you be… meeting them somewhere new?”

Bucky knew what he was asking. It wasn’t like the first time when he’d pushed, asking Bucky about his work when he wasn’t ready to share it. This was Steve’s protectiveness, the shield he used to keep Bucky safe.

“Nat told me that the new first meet will be in The Surrey lounge,” he explained. “She has access to the camera feed – don’t ask me how. I have an appointment Wednesday night at eight.”

Steve nodded but his expression remained pensive. After a long moment of hesitation, he asked, “You’re ready, right?”

Bucky took a deep breath and crawled over Steve, straddling his lap. “I know you’re worried.”

“I am,” Steve confirmed, reaching up to touch Bucky’s cheek. “But I trust that you’ll know when it’s the right time.”

Leaning forward, Bucky pulled Steve into a slow kiss. “You always take such good care of me when I come home from work, Daddy,” he breathed and Steve’s countenance shifted immediately.

He took Bucky by the back of the neck and deepened the kiss, licking into his mouth. Bucky moaned and happily let Steve take over. It had been clear for some time that Steve_ liked_ fucking Bucky after he’d been working, he liked knowing when Bucky hadn’t been allowed to come, or if he was sensitive from coming too much. For a man who’d wanted someone to take care of him_ and_ accept his career, Bucky couldn’t describe how incredible it felt to have this – to have _Steve_.

He was always so firm, but in the gentlest way that Bucky had ever experienced. Bucky had been having sex since he was eighteen, and he’d been getting paid for it since he was twenty-five, and he’d had some decent orgasms. But _truly good_ sex was new – and it was_ all_ Steve.

“Daddy, you make me so hard,” Bucky moaned as Steve kissed down his neck.

“Mmm, baby,” he rasped, running both hands around Bucky’s back and down to grip his ass. “You’re so good, getting hard for Daddy like that.” He squeezed Bucky and began leading him, encouraging him to grind his erection against Steve’s. “You feel that?” He growled. “Feel how hard you made your Daddy?”

“Yes, yes,” Bucky gasped.

“Do you like doing that?” Steve began lifting his hips as Bucky moved forward, increasing the stimulation. “Do you like getting me hot?”

“Y-yeah, God, yeah,” Bucky panted. “Daddy, please, can we – go to bed? Please?”

“That what you want?” Steve asked and bit down on Bucky’s neck, making him yelp. “You want Daddy to fuck you?”

“Uhn, Daddy, please!”

Steve didn’t make him wait; he stood up, lifting Bucky right along with him and carried him through the apartment to their bed. He made quick work of Bucky’s clothes, but then he slowed down, opening him up with careful efficiency that drove Bucky wild. By the time he was finally lifting Bucky’s thighs over his shoulders to slip inside him, Bucky had a steady stream of pre-come leaking from his dick.

“Daddy,” Bucky cried out, trying to bear down and take more, but Steve held him fast.

“Just take it,” he growled, sending shivers down Bucky’s spine. “Be my good boy.”

Bucky’s dick twitched and he nodded. “Mmm, wanna – wanna be good.”

“Don’t come until I say,” Steve commanded. “Hold on for me.”

Bucky sobbed. “D-Daddy, I can’t, I – I need –”

Steve held Bucky’s legs open, keeping him stretched wide as he fucked Bucky hard. He aimed each thrust toward his prostate and Bucky was close far too soon. Reaching down, he gripped himself to hold his orgasm off but Steve had other ideas.

“Should get you a cock ring,” Steve rumbled and Bucky had to hold himself tighter to keep from coming apart. “Leave it on you while I fuck you over and over, then suck you off until you’re desperate for it, begging me.”

“Oh, my God,” Bucky whimpered and Steve’s breath hitched.

“You like that, huh?” He aimed his thrusts, knowing exactly how to please Bucky. “You like when Daddy teases you? Want me to make you beg?”

Steve often used dirty talk when they had sex; he knew how it riled Bucky up. But there was something different in his words then, something darker and more possessive. Frankly, it turned Bucky _the_ _fuck on_.

“Daddy, I’m so close,” he cried out, throwing his free hand up to dig his fingers into the pillow. “Please, please, I – have I been good?”

“Oh, baby,” Steve rasped, “you’re always so good for me, my good boy.”

With that, Bucky’s body seized up and he came all over his chest, even getting some on his neck. Steve fucked him through it, leaning down to lick some off of his skin as Bucky whined at the overstimulation.

“Almost there,” Steve growled, snapping his hips harder, “gonna come inside you, fuck, gonna fill you up – _uhn_ –”

Bucky groaned at the feeling of Steve spilling inside him, his hips twitching in small, aborted thrusts until he collapsed on Bucky. Wrapping his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Bucky pressed kisses to Steve’s neck, shoulder, and cheek, basking in the hazy feeling and Steve’s warmth. After a short time, Steve leaned up and pulled Bucky into a slow kiss, just this side of passionate.

“You’re so amazing,” he breathed when they broke apart. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Daddy,” Bucky whispered, running his fingers through Steve’s hair.

As Bucky watched, Steve’s expression changed; his eyes focused and his jaw set in determination. Bucky waited, biting his lip to keep from asking if something was wrong.

“Move in with me,” Steve said and Bucky’s eyes went wide.

“What?”

“You heard me.” He smirked as he pressed kisses to Bucky’s cheeks, nose, forehead, and then his lips. “Move in with me.”

“Steve,” Bucky began, “giving me a key is one thing but… I mean, _living_ together is way different. There are going to be nights I don’t come home and… I won’t always be able to tell you if I’m going to be later or – or not home at all that night.” He licked his lips, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. “I – I mean, if… if you realize you can’t… do this, that you can’t handle what I do – maybe we should wait?”

“Bucky,” Steve interrupted, “I don’t see your job as anything different or wrong, and I definitely don’t think_ less _of you for it.” He touched Bucky’s cheek, soothing the heat that Bucky hadn’t realized was flooding his face. “Are you… are you worried I’m going to change my mind?”

Bucky buried his face in Steve’s neck, pulling Steve closer so he could hide. “I… sometimes.”

Steve gathered him up, kissing him slow and languid, but Bucky felt all of his love and affection, all of the _emotion_ Steve poured into it. “I lost you once,” he whispered against Bucky’s lips, “then I almost lost you again.”

Bucky furrowed his brows. “Steve…”

“I won’t lose you again as long as you want to be with me.” Steve kissed him again. “I will do everything I can to _prove_ it to you… I’m with you, Buck.” He cradled Bucky’s face in one hand and held his gaze. “I want this. I want to be yours – your boyfriend.”

Bucky’s eyes welled up. “I-I want to be yours too. I love you so much.”

Pulling Bucky into his arms, Steve shushed him as he rubbed up and down his back. “I love you, Bucky. I’m in this… with you.”

A heady emotion filled Bucky’s chest and he nodded his head. “I-I’ll move in with you, Steve.”

“You will?” Steve blurted, eyes and smile wide in his excitement.

“Yeah, I will.” Bucky pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips before pulling back to say, “I… I love you, Steve,” Bucky whispered. “I’m with you too.”

Steve beamed at him. “Always?”

Bucky nodded, face breaking out in a huge, happy grin. “Always.”

_fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! This fic came from a small idea and blossomed into something I love. I'm so happy and grateful for everyone who's read it and will read it. <3 Thank you all.  
I'll see you soon. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/humapuma817) or [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/humapuma)!


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